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T R H 



Brlnt HI or lis 



or 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN 



*• Franklix had at once genius and virtue, happiness and glory. His 
life, always felicitous, is one of the best justifications of the laws of Provi- 
dence. Not only great, he was good ; not only just, he was amiable. A 
sage full of indulgence, a great man full of simplicity, so long as science 
Bhall be cultivated, genius admired, wit relished, virtue honored, and 
liberty prized, his memory shall be one of the most respected and most 
cherished. ' ' — Mignet. 

*'NoT half of Franklin's merits have been told. He vs'as the true 
father of the American Union. It was he who went forth to lay the 
foundation of that great design at Albany ; and in New York he lifted up 
his voice. Here among us he appeared as the apostle of the Union. It 
was Franklin who suggested the Congress of 1774 ; and but for his wis- 
dom, and the confidence that wisdom inspired, it is a matter of doubt 
whether that Congress would have taken effect. It was Franklin who 
suggested the bond of the Union which binds these States from Florida to 
Maine. Franklin was the greatest diplomatist of the eighteenth century. 
He never spoke a word too soon ; he never spoke a word too much ; he 
never failed to speak the right word at the right season." — Bancroft. 




EGiTED BY 



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PHILLIPS ,SARlFSOi:T ^C©. 



VHS 



SELECT WORKS 



or 



BENJAMIN FEANKLIN; 



INCLUDINO 



§is l^ittobiofira^Ijg. 



WITH NOTES AND A ME MO IK 



BY EPES SARGENT. 



BOSTON: 

PHILLIPS, SAMPSON AND COMPANY. 

No. 13 WlXXrU ."'TKEKT. 

18 5 7. 



/ >^ ^' 7 



Entered according to Act of Coqgress, in the year 1853, by 

EPES SARGENT, 

Ib the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



Gift 
Mrs. Hennen Jenn\ngs 
April 26, 1933 



stereotyped by 

HOBART & ROBBINS, 

KEW ENGLAND TYPE AND STEREOTYPE FOCNDRT, 

BOSTON. 



PREFACE. 



I ranklin's personal celebrity lias so eclipsed his liter- 
ary farae, that justice has hardly been done to him as a 
writer and an essayist ; and yet he has himself confessed 
that he was indebted mainly to his pen for his advancement 
in public life. He was singularly indifferent, however, to 
any reputation or profit that might accrue from his writ- 
ings, and left it to his friends to collect and republish them 
as they might please. The consequences of this indifference 
are manifest even to the present time, in the absence of any 
cheap popular edition of his select works. He has been 
posthumously fortunate, however, in having so able an 
editor as Mr. Sparks, whose ten volumes of the Works of 
Franklin, with a memoir and notes, leave nothino; to be 
desired in the way of an ample and accurate collection. 

But Franklin's is a name so eminently and intimately 
popular, that the want of a collection of his best works, 
more generally accessible in respect to size and cost, has 
long been experienced ; and to supply this want the present 
edition is offered. In the introductory memoir, the editor 



VI PREFACE. 

has been indebted for some new facts to the French me- 
moirs by Mignet and Sainte-Beuve ; and the works of John 
Adams, recently published, have supplied many interesting 
details, not embraced in any other biographical account. 
All Franklin's purely literary productions of merit are 
contained in the present collection, with liberal specimens 
of his philosophical writings, and the choicest of his letters. 
Much that he wrote was of merely local and temporary 
interest, designed to affect provincial legislation ; and, 
though valuable to the historian, is unprofitable to the gen- 
eral reader of a subsequent time. 



CONTENTS. 



MEMOIR OF FRANKLIN. 

I. — Account of Franklin's Autobiography — His Story best told by him 
self — His Birth — His Uncle Benjamin — Acrostic by the Latter — Lines 
to his Nephew — Summary of Events related in the Autobiography . . 15 

II. — Franklin's Second Visit to England — His Electrical Discoveries — 
Stuber's Account — The Experiment with a Kite — Scientific Merits — Lon- 
don Contemporaries — Hustile Letter to Strahan, with Autograph — Ill- 
ness — Interview with the Penns — Pamphlets, ic. — Musical Tastes — 
The Harmonica — Scientific Studies and Letters — Visit to poor Piela- 
tions — His Degi-ee — Acquaintances — David Hume — Account of Wil- 
liam Franklin 19 

III. — Embarks for Home — Arrival — Governor Penn — The Paxton Mas- 
sacre — Letter to Lord Karnes — Proposes a Change of Government — 
Chosen Speaker — Agent to visit England — His Departure — Arrival . 36 

IV. — The Stamp Act — Letter to jesn Tucker — Before the House of 
Commons — Repeal of the Stamp Act — The Declaratory Act — Paper 
Money in Pennsylvania — Opposes the Ministerial Policy — Passages 
from a Letter to Lord Karnes 41 

V. — New Scheme for Taxing America- Opposition in Boston — Communi- 
cations in the Papers — Intercourse with Lord Hillsborough — Incidents 
— Repeal of the Revenue Act — Advice to his Countrymen — An Opinion 
verified — Agent of Four Colonies 46 

VI. — Scientific and Economical Pursuits — Excursion — Attentions in 
Ireland — His Situation — On a Committee of the Royal Society — Light- 
ning-rods — Sharp and Blunt Conductors — Controversy — Epigram — 
Abridges the Book of Common Prayer — Philosophical "Writings — 
Dubourg, his French Translator — Amusing Papers — 4necdote . . .52 

ni. — Dismissed from OflTice — The Hutchinson and Oliver Letters — Let- 
ter to Cushing — A Chancery Suit — Hearing before the Privy Council — 
Wedderburii's Invective — Described by Dr. Priestley — Hume's Allusion 
to the Afiair — Demeanor under Abuse — Turning of the Tables — Who 
communicated the Letters 1 56 



VIII CONTENTS. 

VIII. — Plan of a Continental Congress — Efforts to change the Ministry — 
Lord Chatham — Vindication of Franklin — Lord Mahon's Aspersion — 
Efforts to negotiate • — Overtures — Keply to Barclay — Lures rejected . 63 

IX. — A Memorial — Death of Mrs. Franklin — Husband and Wife — 
Leaves for America — Delegate to Congress — First Plan of a Confedera- 
tion — Visits Washington's Head-quarters — Remark of Gen. Greene 

— Various Public Duties — Declaration of Independence — Jefferson's 
Anecdote — President of the Pennsylvania Convention — Measures — 
Views in Congress — Conference with Lord Howe — John Adams — Anec- 
dote — Commissioner to France — Arrival in Paris (j8 

X. — Diplomatic Career — House at Passy — Vergennes — Secret Assistance 

— Lord Stormont — Surrender of Burgoyne — Sheridan's Epigram — 
Treaty with France — The Commissioners at Court — Voltaire — Harass- 
ing Applications — Lafayette — Arthur Lee — Disagi-eement — Mr. Izard 

— John Adams — Franklin Minister Plenipotentiary — Enemies — British 
Negotiators — John Paul Jones — Conduct of the French — Requests his 
Recall — Anecdote — Commissioner for Peace — Treaty with Great Britain 

— Chagrin of Vergennes — Our Debt to France — Letter to*Charles Thomp- 
son — Succeeded by Jefferson 75 

XI. — Social Popularity — Madame Hel vetius — Amusing Letter — French 
Ladies — Bon-mot — Fete — French Men of Letters — Turgot's Compli- 
ment — Portraits, Busts, &c. — Mirabeau — Marat — Acquaintance with 
French — Anecdote — Mesmerism — Cowper and his Poems — Humane 
Measures — Farewell Letter to Mr. Hartley — Depai'ture from Passy — 
Arrival at Southampton — Embarkation — Employments — Reception in 
Philadelphia 90 

XII. — Welcomes — President of Pennsylvania — Delegate to the Conven- 
tion on the U. S. Constitution — Objects to the Salary Principle — Style 
of Speaking — Motion for Daily Prayers — On the Constitution — Private 
Claims — Activity as a Writer — Last Public Act — Last Letter — Wash- 
ington — Closing Years — Lord Jeffrey on his Correspondence — His 
Style — Sir H. Davy's Estimate — Generosity — Habits — Personal Ap- 
pearance — Sir F. Romilly's Description — Last Illness — Death — Obse- 
quies — Burial-place — Inscription — Epitaph — Proceedings of Congress 

— Mirabeau's Eulogy — Will — Descendants — Incident — False Views of 
his Character — His Courtship — Madame Helvetius — Described by Mrs 
Adams — His Religious Views — Claims to Remembrance 99 



HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

Chapter I. — Genealogy — Birth — The Folgers — School-days — Boyish 
Sports and Scrapes — His Parents — Fondness for Reading — Apprenticed 
to his Brother as a Printer — Writes Street Ballads — Disputes with Col- 
lins — Exercises in Composition — Tries a Vegetable Diet — Critical 
Speculations — Employed on a Newspaper — Writes for it Anonymously 
— Ill treated by his Brother — Attack on the Liberty of the Press — 
Leaves his Brother — Starts for New York — Not getting Work there, he 
goes to Philadelphia 119 

Chapter II. — Night at an Inn — Arrival in Philadelphia — Meets his 
future Wife — The First House he slept in — Engaged by Keimer — Ac- 



CONTENTS. IX 

quaintance witli Gov. Keith — Visit to Boston — His Father's Advice — 
Visits his Brother John at Newport — A Lure and an Escape — Stay in 
New York — An Unruly Companion — A Great Erratum — Big Promises 
and Small Fulfilment — An Uneasy Conscience — Abandons a Vegetable 
Diet — Mode of Life with Keimer — Courtship — Acquaintances — Trials 
at Composition — Sails for London with Ralph — Looks into the Bag for 
his Letters of Introduction 137 

Chapter III. — Arrival in London — Finds his Letters are "Worthless — 
Intimacy with Ralph — Gets Work in a Printing-house — Metaphysical 
Treatise — Frequents a Club — A Promise to see Sir Isaac Newton — Sir 
Hans Sloane — A Dangerous Acquaintance — Offends Ralph — Watts's 
Printing-house — Press-work — ^lode of Life — Habits of London Printers 

— Makes a Reform — A Landlady and a Recluse — Swimming — Anec- 
dote of Mr. Denham — New Employment — Almost a Swimming-teacher 

— Sir William Wyndham 152 

Chapter IV. — Embarks for Philadelphia — Arrival — Illness and Disap 
pointment — Foreman to Keimer — Breaks with him — Resolves to set 
up for himself — Meredith — Engraves Plates — Views of Religion — His 
London Dissertation — New Convictions — Types from London — A Part- 
ner — A Croaker — The Junto — AVrites the Busy-body — Sets up a News- 
paper — Friends in need — Dissolves with Partner — Tract on a Paper 
Currency — Opens a Stationer's Shop — Thrifty Habits — Matrimonial 
Designs — Miss Read — Marriage — A Subscription Library. . . .161 

Chapter V. — Second Part of the Autobiography — The Philadelphia 
Library — A Good Wife — Family Habits — Religious Views — Moral 
Perfection aimed at — A Group of Virtues — Scheme for their Attainment 

— Mottoes and Prayers — Story of the Speckled Axe — Result of the 
Scheme — Project of a Treatise on the Art of Virtue 179 

Chapter VI. — Plan of a United Party for Virtue — Poor Richard's Al- 
manac — Summary of Maxims — Mode of Conducting his Newspaper — 
Caution to Young Printers — Hint to Young Women — Rev. Mr. Hemp- 
hill — On the Study of Languages — Visit to Boston — To his Brother 
James at Newport — The Junto — Clerk of the Assembly — Postmaster 

— Public Reforms — The Watch — Forms the first Fire-company . .192 

Chapter VII. — Arrival of Whitefield — Effects of his Preaching — Church 
for all Sects — Anecdote — Vindication of Whitefield — His Clear Voice 

— Elocution improved by Practice — Mistake in Publishing — Franklin's 
Partnerships in Printing — Proposals for an Academy — Philosophical 
Society — Active in Measures for Defence — Chosen Colonel — Proposes a 
Fast — The Quakers — James Logan — Anecdote of Penn — The Dunkers 

— The Franklin Fire-place — Refuses a Patent for it 202 

Cftapter VIII. — Moves in the Cause of Education — An Academy — A 
Trustee — New Partnership — Electrical Experiments — Public Employ- 
ments — A Member of the Assembly — Commissioner to treat with Indi- 
ans — The Pennsylvania Hospital — Advice in procuring Subscriptions — 
Street Paving, Cleaning and Lighting — Project for Cleaning Streets in 
London — Postmaster-general of America — Honorary Degrees . . . 213 

Chapter IX. — Delegate to the Albany Convention — Proposes a Plan of 
Union — Confers with Gov. Shirley at Boston — Meets Gov. Morris at 
New York — Anecdote — Proprietary Quarrels — War with France — 
Assists Mr. Quincy in procuring Supplies — Visits Bra,ddock's Army — 
Procures Horses and Wagons for it — Character of Braddock — His Defeat 

— Poor Reward of Franklin's Services 224 



X CONTENTS. 

Chapter X. — Commissioner for Disbursing Money for Public Defence — 
His Militia Bill — Appointed to take Charge of the Frontier and build 
Forts — March — Military Preparations — Indian Massacre — Arrival at 
Gnadenhutten — New Mode of securing Punctuality at Prayers — The 
Moravians — Their Marriages — Colonel Franklin — Journey to Virginia 

— Offered a Commission as General — Account of his Electrical Discover- 
ies — A Member of the Royal Society — Receives the Copley Medal . 237 

Chapter XI. — Overtures from Gov. Denny — The Assembly and the Pro- 
prietaries — Fi'anklin deputed to go to England as Agent of the Assembly 

— Discussion before Lord Loudoun — Vexatious Delays — Anecdote — 
Departure with his Son for England — Anecdote of Shirley — Incidents 
of the Voyage — Arrival in London 248 



HIS POLITICAL PAPERS. 

Interviews with Lord Chatham 257 

A Prussian Edict, assuming Claims over Britain 266 

Rules for Reducing a Great Empire to a Small One; presented to a late 

Minister when he entered upon his Administration 270 

An Algerine Speech 277 

On Gratitude to the Ministry 280 



HIS PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS. 

The Electrical Kite 281 

Various Experiments — Treatment of Inventors . 283 

Fire in Bodies — Experiment 286 

Protection from Lightning 288 

Of the Effects of Electricity in Paralytic Cases 291 

Meteorological Imaginations and Conjectures 292 

On Cold produced by Evaporation 294 

Salt Water rendered fresh by Distillation — Method of relieving Thirst 

by Sea-water 302 

Tendency of Rivers to the Sea — Effects of the Sun's Rays on Cloths of 

Different Colors 304 

Effect of Air on the Barometer — The Study of Insects 307 

Effect of Vegetation on Noxious Air 309 

The Art of Swimming 309 

Bathing and Swimming 312 

On the Free Use of Air .314 

On the Causes of Colds 315 

Theory of the Earth 315 

New and Curious Theory of Light and Heat 319 

On the Prevailing Doctrines of Life and Death 321 

On Smoky Chimneys 322 



CONTENTS. JI 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 

On Searching after H'iden Treasures 333 

Advantages of Veracity 335 

On True Happiness 337 

On Self-deniai 339 

Rivalship in Almanac-making 341 

The Waste of Life 343 

Dialogue 1 345 

Dialogue II 349 

Poor Kichard's Almanac 353 

Advice to a Young Tradesman 360 

Hints necessary to those that would be Rich 361 

The Handsome and Deformed Leg 362 

The Savages of North America 364 

Dialogue between Franklin and the Gout 369 

The Whistle 375 

Questions for the Junto 377 

The Internal State of America 381 

On Discoveries 385 

Positions to be examined concerning National Wealth 387 

Government 389 

Morals of Chess 391 

A Parable on Persecution 394 

A Parable on Brotherly Love 396 

The Ephemera ; an Emblem of Human Life 397 

A Dialogue between Britain,France, Spain, Holland, Saxony and Amer- 
ica 399 

Extracts 401 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 

To Josiah Franklin, Boston. April 13, 1738 403 

A Man's Religion to be judged of by its Fruits — Freemasons. 

To Miss Jane Franklin. January 6, 1726-7 404 

On Presenting a Spinning-wheel. 

To the same. July 28, 1743 405 

Religious Notions — Doctrine and Worship. 

T© James Read. 17 August, 1745 406 

On Dififerences between Man aud Wife. 

To Peter Collinson. 9 May, 1753 407 

English Poor Laws — Amending the Scheme of Providence — 
Anecdotes — Aversion from Labor among American Indians — 
Germans in Pennsylvania — Their Peculiarities — Hopes for Eng- 
land. 

To George W^hitefield. June 6, 1753 412 

Good Works — On Meriting Heaven — Prayers and Deeds — 
Example of Christ. 



XII CONTENTS. 

To Miss Catherine Ray, at Block Island. 4 March, 1775 414 

To Miss Catherine Ray. 11 September, 1755 415 

To Miss E. Hubbard. 23 February, 1756 418 

On the Death of his Brother, John Eranklin. 

To his Wife. Nov. 13, 1756 418 

A Humorous Rebuke. 

To Lord Karnes. May 3, 1760 419 

His Lordship's Principles of Equity — Franklin's Plan of Writing 
The Art of Virtue. 

To Miss Mary Stevenson. May 16, 1760 421 

Advice in Reading. 

To George Whitefield. 19 June, 1764 422 

Trust in Providence. 

To the Editor of a London Newspaper. 20 May, 1765 422 

Satirical Defence of Newspaper Paragraphs and their False Re- 
ports. 

To Mrs. Deborah Franklin. June 22, 1767 425 

State of his Affairs — Proposed Marriage of his Daughter 

To Mies Mary Stevenson. 14 September, 1767 426 

Visit to Paris — French Women and Fashions — King and Queen 
— Versailles — Paris — French Politeness — Travelling. 

To Lord Karnes. February 21, 1769 431 

Use of Oxen in Agriculture — Congratulations — Political Pros- 
pects. 

To John Alleyne. August 8, 1768 432 

On Early Marriages. 

To William Franklin. Dec. 19, 1768 434 

The Boston Resolutions — Parliamentary Anecdote. 

To William Franklin. April 16, 1768 435 

Riots in London. 

To Mr. Ross, Philadelphia. May 14, 1768 436 

Riots in London — Wilkes — Divisions among the Ministry — The 
Church in America. 

To Joseph Galloway, May 14, 1768 437 

The Wilkes Riots — More Mischief Brewing — Preparations for 
Return. 

To Miss Mary Stevenson. October 1768 439 

Advice on Family Matters. 

To a Friend. 28 November 440 

The Difficulties between England and her Colonies — Ends of 
Providence. 

To Miss Mary Stevenson. 2 September, 1769 441 

Mother and Daughter — Reason and Enthusiasm. 

To Mrs. Jane Mecom. 30 December, 1770 442 

On Resigning his Office — Theories of Preexistence. 

To Samuel Cooper. 5 February, 1771 44S 

Minutes of a Remarkable Conference with Lord Hillsborough. 



CONTENTS. XIII 

To Joshua Babcock. 13 January, 1772 449 

Agriculture the most Honorable Employment — Condition of the 

Poor in Ireland — Savage Life and Civilization. / 

To Samuel Franklin. 13 January 450 

How to Choose a Wife. 

To William Franklin. 19 August 451 

Modes of Exercise — Importance to Health. 

To Joseph Priestley. 19 September 452 

Moral Algebra, for arriving at Decisions in Doubtful Cases. 

To the same. 27 January, 1777 453 

The Philosopher's Stone — Wickedness of the American War. 

To Josiah Quincy. 22 April, 1779 454 

Providence Rules — National Characteristics — American Super- 
fluities. 

To Joseph Priestley. 8 February, 1780 _. .455-6 

Progress of Science — All Situations have their Inconveniences 

— Illustrative Anecdote. 

To Miss Georgiana Shipley. 8 October 457 

To Francis Hopkinson. 24 December, 1782 458 

On Planting Trees — Newspaper Abuse. 

To Mrs. Mary Hewson. 27 January, 1783 459 

On the Death of Friends — Folly of War — Protracted Friend- 
ship. 

To John Sargent. 27 January 4G0 

Gratitude to Providence — Matrimony, &G. 

To Sir Joseph Banks. 27 July 461 

Against War. 

To Jonathan Shipley. 17 March 462 

On the Establishment of Peace. 

To Mrs. Bache. January 26, 1784 464 

The Order of the Cincinnati — Ascending and Descending Honors 

— Absurdity of the System of Hereditary Nobility. 

To Dr. Mather, Boston. May 12 469 

Cotton Mather — Anecdote — On visiting Boston. 

To B. Vaughan. July 26 470 

American Extravagance — Anecdote — Commerce — Forest Lands 

— Elements of Wealth. 

To William Strahan, M.P. August 19 474 

On visiting England — Public Salaries — Vagrancy of Congress 

— The War — British Disdain for Yankees — Consequences — 
Evidences of Providence — Comparison of Fortunes — English 
Copyrights in America — Emigration. 

To George Whatley. May 23, 1785 478 

Privileges of Old Age — On a Good Epitaph — Reasons for Con- 
fidence in a Future State — The American Constitution — Eng- 
land — Anecdote. 

2 



XIV CONTENTS. 

To Mrs. Mary Hewson, London. May 6, 1786 iS"" 

Recovery of an Old Letter — Life in Philadelphia — Cards — 
Consolation for Idleness — Public Amusements — Family Mat- 
ters. 

To Mrs. Jane Mecom. 4 July 483 

Phonography Anticipated. 

To Miss *** 484 

The Art of Procuring Pleasant Dreams. 

To Thomas Paine 488 

On his Arguments against a Particular Providence, &c. 

To the Editors of the Pennsylvania Gazette. March 30, 1788 .... 489 
On Party Abuse — Newspaper Scurrility. 

To Charles Thompson. December 29 491 

Sketch of the Services of B. Franklin to the United States of 
America. 

To David Hartley. December 4, 1789 496 

State of his Health — Convulsions in France. 

To William Franklin. 16 August, 1784 497 

On Political Differences with his Son. 

To Noah Webster. December 26, 1789 49S 

Innovations in the English Language — The Latin and the 
French — Fashions in Printing — Use of Capital Letters, Italics, 



MEMOIR 



F 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 



I. 

No memoir of Franklin can be a successful substitute for 
his Autobiography. In the present sketch, we shall aim at 
little but a review of such facts as are too lightly touched 
on in his own charming narrative, or as are needed to com- 
plete the account of his useful and eventful life. The First 
Part of his Autobiography, addressed in the form of a letter 
to his son, William Franklin, Governor of New Jersey, was 
written in England, in the year 1771, during the author's 
sojourn at Twyford, the seat of Dr. Shipley, Bishop of St. 
Asaph. In this Part, he brings down the narrative of his 
life to the year 1730 ; and of it there were an original 
draft and a copy taken with a machine. The original man- 
uscript was given to M. Le Veillard, of Passy, who was 
guillotined during the French revolution, when it fell into 
the possession of his daughter. The copy became the prop- 
erty of Franklin's grandson, William Temple Franklin, 

By M. Veillard this First Part was translated into 
French, and published together with a collection of Frank- 
lin's Essays. It is a curious circumstance, that an English 
translation having been made from this French version for 



16 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

a similar collection, published in London, shortly after 
Franklin's death, this translation of a translation has been 
repeatedly republished, both in England and this country, as 
the life of Franklin, written by himself What renders the 
fate of it still more singular is the fact that the English 
re-translation, translated back into French, was published in 
Paris in 1798. The Autobiography as originally written, 
and as printed in the present volume, was first published in 
1818, by William Temple Franklin. 

The occurrence of the American revolution interrupted 
Franklin's autobiographical task, and he did not resume it 
till twelve years later, while resident at Passy, near Paris, 
in France. The Second, and last, Part of his Autobiogra- 
phy, terminates with his arrival in London, in 1757, as the 
agent of the Pennsylvania Assembly, in their dispute with 
the descendants of Penn, the "proprietaries,'' as they were 
called, of the territory ceded to their ancestor. 

Such is the graceful and unaffected candor of Franklin's 
style, that his story is ever best told in his own words. 
"His confessions of his faults," says Sainte Beuve, "have 
an air of sincerity and simplicity, which leave us in no 
doubt as to the genuineness of the sentiment he expresses. 
When Rousseau, in his Confessiojis^ makes similar avow- 
als, he vaunts, even while he accuses himself Franklin, 
who has few but venial faults to reveal, accuses himself less 
vehemently and does not vaunt at all." 

We shall give a brief summary of the events related in 
the Autobiography, and then take up the thread of Frank- 
lin's history where he drops it. 

Benjamin Franklin was born in Boston, January the 
17th, 1706. His father, who had emigrated from England, 
was a tallow-chandler. Benjamin was the fifteenth of 
seventeen children, and the eighth of ten by a second wife. 
He was named for an uncle, who emigrated to Boston in the 
year 1715. This uncle had the poetical faculty in no 
ordinary degree, as may be inferred from the following 
pieces, which, while they are marked by the fashionable 
quaintnesses of the religious poets of the seventeenth cen- 
tury, give evidence of considerable literary culture. The 
first bears the title of an "Acrostic sent to Benjamin 
Franklin, in New England, July 15, 1710." 



A printer's apprenticb. 17 

** Be to thy parents an obedient son ; 
Each (lay let duty coustantlj be done ; 
Never give way to sloth, or lust, or pride. 
If free you 'd be from thousand ills beside ; 
Above all ills be sure avoid the shelf 
Man's danger lies in, — Satan, sin and self I 
In virtue, learning, -wisdom, progress make ; 
Ne'er shrink at sutfering for thy Saviour's sake. 

«* Fraud and all falsehood in thy dealings flee; 
Religious always in thy station be ; 
Adore the Maker of thy inward part ; 
Now 's the accepted time, give Him thy heart ; 
Keep a good conscience, — 't is a constant friend ; 
Like judge and witness this thy acts attend ! 
In heart, with bended knee, alone, adore 
None but the Three in One forevermore." 

From the following lines, " sent to Benjamin Franklin, 
1T13," when he was only seven years old, it would seem 
that his literary tendencies were developed even earlier than 
his own account would lead us to suppose : 

" 'Tis time for me to throw aside my pen, 
When hanging sleeves read, write, and rhyme like men. 
This forward spring foretells a plenteous crop ; 
For, if the bud bear grain, what will the top ? 
If plenty in the verdant blade appear. 
What may we not soon hope for in the ear ? 
When flowers are beautiful before they 're blown. 
What rarities will aftei'ward be shown ! 
If trees good fruit unnoculated bear, 
You may be sure 't will afterward be rare. 
If fruits are sweet before they 've time to yellow. 
How luscious will they be when they are mellow ! 
If first years' shoots such noble clusters send. 
What laden boughs, Engedi-like, may we expect in the end ! '* 

At twelve years of age, Benjamin was apprenticed to his 
elder brother, James, a printer, and publisher of the New 
England Coiirant. a newspaper in Boston. Benjamin 
had a passion for reading, and he now found means of 
gratifying it. He was also tempted to try his skill in lit€/- 
rary composition, and wTote some anonymous pieces for his 
brother's journal, which were published and approved. Some 
political articles in the Courant having offended the Legis- 
lative Assembly of the colony, the publisher was imprisoned 
and forbidden to continue his journal. To elude this 
prohibition, young Franklin was made the nominal editor, 
and his indentures were temporarily cancelled. After the 
2* 



18 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

release of his brother, he availed himself of this act to assert 
his freedom, and thus escaped from a position which had 
been irksome in consequence of the ill treatment to which he 
was subjected. Franklin subsequently blamed himself for 
thus taking advantage of his brother's difficulty, and set 
down his own conduct on this occasion as one of the errata 
of his life. 

He now secretly embarked, without means or recommend- 
ations, on board a small vessel bound to New York. Not 
finding employment there, he set out for Philadelphia, 
where he arrived on foot, with a penny-roll in his hand, and 
one dollar in his purse. Here he obtained emplo3anent as a 
compositor, and, having attracted the notice of Sir William 
Keith, Governor of Pennsylvania, was, through his prom- 
ises, induced to visit England, for the purpose of purchasing 
the materials for establishino- himself in business as a 
printer. On reaching London, in 1725, he found himself 
entirely deceived in his promised letters of credit and 
recommendation from Governor Keith ; and being, as before, 
in a strange place, without credit or acquaintances, he went 
to work once more as a compositor. 

In 1726, after a residence of about eighteen months in 
London, he returned to Philadelphia, soon after which he 
entered into business as a printer and stationer ; and in 
1728 established a newspaper. In 1732 he published his 
"Poor Richard's Almanac," wdiich became noted for its 
pithy maxims, — some original, but mostly taken from 
various sources, ancient and modern. In 1736 he was ap- 
23ointed clerk to the General Assembly of Pennsylvania, 
and the year following postmaster of Philadelphia. In the 
French war, in 1744, the Governor having in vain impor- 
tuned the legislature, a majority of whom were Quakers, 
to pass a militia law, and adopt other precautions for 
defence, Franklin proposed to accomplish the object by a 
voluntary subscription ; and he set forth its importance in a 
pamphlet entitled " Plain Truth," which did not fail of effect. 

About the year 1 746, he commenced his electrical ex- 
periments, and made several important discoveries. In 
1747 he was chosen a representative of the General Assem- 
bly, in which situation he distinguished himself by several 
acts of public utility. By his influential exertions a mihtia 



SECOND VISIT TO ENGLAND. 19 

bill was passed, and he was appointed colonel of the Phila- 
delphia regiment. In 1757 he was sent to England as 
agent for Pennsylvania. 



II. 

Franklin's second visit to England was made under aus- 
pices very different from those which had attended his first. 
Then he went a poor printer, relying upon the imaginary 
influence of the graceless Sir William Keith, who had 
amused him with chimerical promises, and cajoled him with 
sham letters of recommendation. Now it was Franklin, 
the eminent philosopher and discoverer, the gifted writer 
and sagacious statesman, w^io took up his temporary resi- 
dence in London. His electrical discoveries had been pro- 
mulgated some ten years before. His first letter on the 
subject was communicated March 28, 1747, to Peter Col- 
linson, a member of the Royal Society. In this and his 
subsequent letters, Franklin makes known the power of 
points in drawing and throwing off the electrical matter, — a 
fact which had hitherto escaped the attention of electricians. 
He also made the discovery of a plus and Qiilmis^ or of a 
positive and negative^ state of electricity. 

"Besides these great principles," says Dr. Stuber, 
'' Franklin's letters on electricity contain a number of facts 
and hints which have contributed greatly towards reducing 
this branch of knowledge to a science. His friend, Mr. Kin- 
nersley, communicated to him a discovery of the different 
kinds of electricity excited by rubbing glass and sulphur. 
The philosophers were disposed to account for the phenom- 
ena rather from a difference in the quantity of electricity 
collected ; and even Du Faye himself seems at last to have 
adopted this doctrine. Franklin at first entertained the 
same idea : but. upon repeating the experiments, he per- 
ceived that Mr. Kinnersley was right, and that the vitreous 
and resinous electricity of Du Faye were nothing more 
than the positive and negative states which he had before 
observed ; that the glass globe charged positively^ or in- 
creased the quantity of electricity on the prime conductor ; 
whilst the globe of sulphur diminished its natural quantity, 



20 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

or charged negatively. These experiments and ohserva- 
tions opened a new field for investigation, upon which elec- 
tricians entered with avidity ; and their labors have added 
much to the stock of our knowledge." 

In 1749 he suggested an explanation of the aurora bore- 
alis and thunder-gusts on electrical principles. The same 
year he conceived the project of testing the truth of his 
theory in respect to lightning, by means of sharp-pointed 
iron rods, raised into the region of the clouds. But it was 
not till the summer of 1T52 that he resorted to the expedi- 
ent of a common kite, and by means of it converted what 
was theory into scientific truth. 

While waiting for the construction of a spire from which 
to try his experiment, it occurred to him that he might 
secure the desired contact with the clouds by means of a 
kite. He prepared one of a silk handkerchief, as being less 
likely to be affected by rain than paper. To the upright 
stick of the frame he attached an iron point. The string 
was, as usual, of hemp, except the lower end, which was of 
silk ; and where the hempen and silken cords were united, 
he fastened a metallic key. 

With this apparatus, he went forth, with his son, into the 
fields, as a thunder-storm was coming on, to try the experi- 
ment, the memory of which was to be immortal. Well 
knowing the ridicule which scientific experiments, when 
unsuccessful, often call forth, he kept his intentions a secret 
from all but his companion. He placed himself under a 
shed, to avoid the rain. His kite was raised. A thunder- 
cloud passed over it. No sign of electricity appeared. 
Franklin began to despair of success, when suddenly he saw 
the loose fibres of his string in motion, and bristhng, in an 
upright position, as if placed on a conductor. On applying 
his knuckle to the key, he experienced a smart shock, 
accompanied by a bright spark. Here was his theory veri- 
fied ! As the string became wet with the rain, it operated 
better as a conductor, and he was enabled to collect an 
abundant supply of electricity, with which he charged a jar. 

This experiment was made in June, 1752. It had been 
successfully performed, according to Franklin's original 
plan, by means of a pointed bar of iron, about a month 
previous, in Paris, by M. De Lor ; but Franklin had not 



ELECTRICAL DISCOVERIES. 21 

been apprized either of the attempt or the result at the time 
of making his experiment with the kite. He afterwards had 
an insulated rod constructed to draw the lightning into his 
house, with a bell attached, in order to inform him when the 
rod was affected by electricity. By means of this apparatus 
he was enabled to collect a considerable quantity of electric 
fluid, on which to experiment at his leisure. 

Franklin's letters to Collinson, narrating his electrical 
experiments, were at first received with incredulous raillery 
by the Royal Society, and regarded as unworthy of being 
printed among its transactions. The scientific men of 
France, however, did ample justice to Franklin's merits, 
and at length the experiment of procuring lightning from 
the clouds by a pointed rod having been verified in Eng- 
land, the Royal Society made amends for its neglect by 
choosing him a member, exempting him from the customary 
admission fee of twenty-five guineas, and, in 1753, present- 
ing him with the gold medal of Sir Godfrey Copley. 

"The fame of Franklin," says Mignet, "rapidly spread 
with his theory over the whole world. His Treatise, pub- 
lished by Dr. Fothergill, a member of the Royal Society, 
was translated into French, Italian, German and Latin. 
It produced a scientific revolution throughout Europe. The 
experiments of the American philosopher, which Dalibard 
had made simultaneously with him at Marly-le-Roi, were 
repeated at Montbard, by the great naturalist Buffon ; at 
Saint Germain, by De Lor, before Louis XV., who wished 
to be a witness of them : at Turin, by Father Beccaria ; in 
Russia, by Professor Richmann, who, receiving too power- 
ful a discharge, fell hghtning-struck, and gave to science 
a martyr. Everywhere conclusive, these experiments 
caused the new system to be adopted by acclamation; and it 
was styled Franklinian^ in honor of its author. 

' ' Thus all at once distinguished, the Philadelphia sage 
became the object of universal regard, and was abundantly 
loaded with academic honors. The Academy of Sciences of 
Paris made him an associate member, as it had Newton and 
Leibnitz. All the learned bodies of Europe eagerly ad- 
mitted him into their ranks.* To this scientific glory, 

* Emmanuel Kant, the celebrated German philosopher, spok© of 
Franklin, ui 1755, as " the Prometheus of modern times." 



22 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

■wliich he miglit have extended if he had congecrated to his 
favorite pursuits his thoughts and his time, he added high 
political distinction. To this man, happy because he was 
intelligent, great because he had an active genius and a 
devoted heart, was accorded the rare felicity of serving his 
country skilfully and usefully for a period of fifty years ; 
and, after havino; taken rank amono; the immortal founders 
of the positive sciences, of enrolling himself among the 
generous liberators of the nations." 

With a scientific and literary reputation familiar to all 
Europe, Franklin was hospitably received in England on 
the occasion of his second visit, which lasted from July 27, 
1757, to the latter part of August, 1762. At this time 
Dr. Johnson was publishing his Idle?^ ; Burke had just 
given to the world his "Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful," 
and was editing the Annual Reglstei' for Dodsley ; Hume 
was about completing his History of England ; Sterne Avas 
publishing his Tristram Shandy ; Swedenborg was residing 
obscurely in London, engaged upon his mystical writings ; 
Goldsmith was just launching upon a literary career in the 
same great metropolis ; Garrick was electrifying the town 
with his acting ; and the brothers Wesley were engaging in 
their extraordinary labors for the establishment of a re- 
formed Protestantism. Sir Isaac Newton had died thirty 
years before. Franklin, when in London before, had been 
promised a sight of him, but the promise was not kept. It 
does not appear that Franklin ever became personally ac- 
quainted with any of these distinguished persons, excepting 
Hume, Garrick and Burke. 

After partaking of the hospitality of his friend and cor- 
respondent, Mr. Collinson, he took lodgings at a house in 
Craven-street, a few doors from the Strand, which had been 
recommended to him by some of his Philadelphia friends. 
It was kept by a Mrs. Stevenson, " a very discreet, good 
gentlewoman," and Franklin did not change his quarters 
during the whole period of his stay in England. Many of 
his best philosophical papers were addressed to Miss Mary 
Stevenson, a daughter of his landlady, and a young lady 
of decided taste for scientific investigation. With this 
family he maintained the most afiectionate relations during 
his long life. 



ACQUAINTANCES IN ENGLAND. 



23 



Among the acquaintances of Franklin at this time was 
John Baskerville, whose improvements in printing and 
type-founding had commended him to the literary Avorld. 
He was born the same year with Franklin, and similarity 
of mechanical tastes brouo;ht them too-ether. William 
Strahan. king's printer, and a member of Parliament, was 
one of Franklin's most intimate associates and admirers, 
and his regard seems to have been reciprocated. " He was 
very urgent with me," says Franklin, in a letter to his 
wife, " to stay in England, and prevail with you to remove 
hither with Sally. He proposed several advantageous 
schemes to me, which appeared reasonably founded." In 
a letter to Mrs. Franklin, dated London, December 13, 
1757, Mr. Strahan writes of her husband : — "I never saw 
a man who was, in every respect, so perfectly agreeable to 
me. Some are amiable in one view, some in another, — he in 
all." It is a painful example of the estrangements pro- 
duced by war to read, in connection with this, the folloAving 
letter (by some supposed not wholly serious) from Franklin 
to Strahan, written some eighteen years afterwards : 

Phil ad., July 5, 1775. 
Mr. Strahan : You are a Member of Parliament, and one of that 
majority which has doomed my country to destruction. You have begun 
to burn our towns and murder our people. Look upon your hands ; — • 
they are stained with the blood of your relations ! You and I were long 
friends, — you are now my enemy ; and I am 




24 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

After the independence of the Colonies, the friendly in- 
tercourse of Franklin with Strahan was renewed, and old 
ties were reknit with added warmth on both sides. 

In the autumn of 1757 Franklin had an attack of illness, 
resulting in a violent cold and fever ; during which, as he 
writes to his wife, he was " now and then a little delirious." 
"They cupped me," he continues, "on the back of the 
head, which seemed to ease me for the present. I took a 
good deal of bark, both in substance and infusion ; and, too 
soon thinki-ng myself well, I ventured out twice, to do a 
little business and forward the service I am engaged in, and 
both times got fresh cold and fell down again. My good 
doctor grew very angry with me for acting contrary to his 
cautions and directions, and obliged me to promise more 
observance for the future." The "good doctor" here 
alluded to was Doctor Fothergill, who attended Franklin 
very carefully and affectionately during his illness, Avhich 
lasted nearly two months, 

Franklin entered into the objects of his mission with his 
usual alacrity and fidelity of attention. A brief review of 
these objects will be appropriate in this place. 

By the death of the widow of William Penn, and of 
Springett Penn, son and heir of William Penn the younger, 
the territorial rights of the province were reunited, under the 
will of William Penn, the founder, in John, Thomas, and 
Richard, his sons by his second wdfe. John, the eldest, 
born in Pennsylvania during his father's last visit, possessed 
a double share. By John's death, without issue, his half 
of Pennsylvania descended to his next brother, Thomas, 
who thus became "Proprietary" of three-fourths of the 
province, his brother Richard being the "Proprietary" of 
the remainder. 

To extend their influence, these Proprietaries had claimed 
the appointment of judicial and other officers. They had 
forbidden all other persons to purchase lands of the natives, 
— thus establishing a monopoly in their own favor ; and 
they had insisted on the exemption of their immense estates 
from taxation. In an address to the Proprietaries in 1751, 
the General Assembly urge the old complaint, that the 
Province was at the sole expense of Indian treaties, of 
which the chief benefit resulted to the Proprietaries in the 



PUBLIC OPINION AND THE PRESS. '25 

cession of lands. Disputes ensued on these controverted 
claims between the General Assembly and the Governor, 
who was the nominee of the Proprietaries, and the repre- 
sentative of their interests. The ready pen and clear 
judgment of Franklin were frequently called into requi- 
sition in drawing up reports and representations in reply to 
the Proprietaries and their advocates ; and, at last, havino' 
showed himself more than a match for the wi^iters on the 
other side, the Assem])ly sent him as their agent, as already 
mentioned, to represent their case to the king. 

On his arrival in England he found that the newspapers 
were mostly in the Proprietary interest, and that " intel- 
ligence from Pennsylvania," evidently manufactured with 
a view to prejudicing public opinion, represented the in- 
habitants of the province as actuated by a selfish and re- 
fractory spirit ; although they merely withstood the claim 
of the Proprietaries to an exemption from a taxation which 
was as necessary to the defence of their ow^n estates as to 
the general safety. One of Franklin's first steps was to 
reform an erroneous public opinion, through the same 
medium by w^hich it had been created, — namely, the press. 
It having been stated in a newspaper called 71ie Citizen, 
or General Advertiser^ that ravages had been committed 
by the Indians on the inhabitants of the western part of the 
province, and that the Assembly's pertinacious disputes 
with the Governor prevented anything being done for the 
public protection, Franklin caused a reply to be inserted in 
the same new^spaper. over the signature of his son, William 
Franklin, and dated from the " Pennsylvania Coffee-house, 
London, Sept. 16, IToT." In this communication a cir- 
cumstantial denial is given to the charges brought against 
the Assembly, and more especially the Quaker portion of 
that body. 

With a view to enlightening public opinion still further 
in regard to the rights of the people of Pennsylvania, as 
opposed to the claims of the two sons of William Penn, in 
the beginning of 1759 an anonymous work was published, 
entitled " An Historical Review of the Constitution and 
Government of Pennsylvania from its origin." The motto 
was as follows: "Those who give up essential hberty to 
purchase a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty 
3 



26 ■ MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN TRANKLIN. 

nor safety." The autliorsliip of tiiis work was at once 
charged upon Franklin, although by some it was attributed 
to his old comrade, James Ralph, then resident in London. 
The volume was dedicated to Arthur Onslow, Speaker of 
the House of Commons ; and, in his dedication, the writer 
says, " The cause we bring is, in fact, the cause of all the 
provinces in one. It is the cause of every British subject 
in every part of the British dominions. It is the cause of 
every man who deserves to be free, everywhere." 

Following the dedicatory epistle is an "Introduction," in 
which Thomas Penn is referred to as "an assuming land- 
lord, strongly disposed to convert free tenants into abject 
vassals, and to reap what he did not sow." As an excuse 
for bringing before the British public '• the transactions of 
a Colony till of late hardly mentioned in our annals," the 
author remarks : " But then, as there are some eyes which 
can find nothing marvellous but what is marvellously great, 
so there are others which are equally disposed to marvel at 
what is marvellously little, and who can derive as much 
entertainment from their microscope, in examining a mite, 

as Br. in ascertaining the geography of the moon, or 

measuring the tail of a comet." The author does not pre- 
sume that "such as have long been accustomed to consider 
the Colonies in general as only so many dependencies on 
the Council-board, the Board of Trade, and the Board of 
Customs, or as a hot-bed for causes, jobs, and other pecu- 
niary emoluments, and as bound as effectually by instruct 
lions as by laivs, can be prevailed upon to consider these 
patriot ?v/stics with any degree of respect. Derision, on 
the contrary, must be the lot of him who imagines it in the 
power of the pen to set any lustre upon them." And he 
eloquently concludes in these words : " But how contempt- 
ibly soever these gentlemen may talk of the Colonies, how 
cheap soever they may hold their Assemblies, or how insig- 
nificant the planters and traders who compose them, truth 
will be truth, and principle principle, notwithstanding. 
Courage, wisdom, integrity, and honor, are not to be 
measured by the sphere assigned them to act in, but by 
the trials they undergo, and the vouchers they furnish ; 
and, if so manifested, need neither robes nor titles to set 
them off." 



INTERVIEW WITH THE PENNS. 27 

The Proprietaries were much incensed by the language 
applied to them in this work. The belief that it was from 
the pen of Franklin was so fixed and general, that he made 
no public disavowal of the authorship, — partly, perhaps, 
throuo;h a willino;ness to incur all the odium of it, and 
partly because he was really responsible for the publication 
and for many ol the facts. In the Philadelphia edition of 
his works, published as late as 1840, the "Historical 
Review" is inseited entire, as from his pen. It appears, 
however, from a letter to David Hume, dated' September 27, 
1760, that the work was incorrectly attributed to him. In 
this letter (first published by Mr. Sparks) he says : "I am 
obliged to you for the favorable sentiments you express of 
the pieces sent to you ; though the volume relating to our 
Pennsylvania affairs was not written by me, nor any part 
of it, except the remarks on the proprietor's estimate of his 
estate, and some of the inserted messages and reports of the 
Assembly, which I wrote when at home, as a member of 
committees appointed by the House for that purpose. The 
rest was by another hand." The " Historical Review," 
though anonymous, appears to have been of considerable 
service in gaining friends for the Assembly, in opposition 
to the Proprietaries. 

In conformity with directions from the Assembly, Frank- 
lin had an interview with the Proprieta^ries. resident in Eng- 
land, and discussed the points of difference. The Messrs. 
Penn would not relax in their arbitrary claims. They seemed 
ambitious of holding the whole population of the province 
in a state of vassalage. Not only did they claim political 
privileges, insisting on giving such instructions to their 
deputy governor as made him a mere puppet in their 
hands, and trammelled him in a manner to render him pow- 
erless for good to the people, but they looked sharply after 
their pecuniary interests, and continued to chaffer with the 
Assembly for an exemption of their princely domains from 
taxation. 

While the quarrel was pending, the Assembly passed a 
law taxing the proprietary estates, which law was approved 
by Governor Denny. This and several other laws, having 
a similar sanction, were so displeasing to the Proprietaries, 
that they removed the Governor from ofiice. The laws 



28 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FKANKLIN. 

being sent over to England for the King's approval, the 
Penns petitioned for a veto on them ; and the whole question 
being brought before the Board of Trade, was at length 
decided in June. 1760, Franklin having been detained some 
three years in the prosecution of his mission. By this deci- 
sion the right of the Assembly to tax the proprietary estates 
was admitted, and their suit, so far as related to the main 
point of the controversy, was triumphantly terminated. 
The Board of Trade, however, in their decision, commicnted 
in severe terms on an inferred colkision between the Assem- 
bly and Governor Denny, evinced by a grant to the latter 
of a distinct sum of money for consenting to the several acts 
objected to by the Proprietaries. Some modifications of 
the act taxino' the Proprietaries were also reciuired : and. as 
these were not important, Franklin readily concurred in 
them, and the controversy for the time was settled, much 
to his reputation as a prudent and faithful negotiator. The 
powerful influence of Lord Mansfield had been given in 
favor of the Assembly's demand that the lands of the Pro- 
prietaries should be taxed. 

The war with France, in which Great Britain was at 
this time involved, occupied much of Franklin's concern, 
and he was, at an early period, convinced of the policy of 
changing the theatre of hostilities from Europe to Canada. 
His views on this subject were drawn from him by Messrs. 
Potter and Wood, secretaries of Lord Chatham, then prime 
minister, and probably had some Aveight in determining the 
enterprise w^hich resulted in Wolfe's brilliant victory, and 
the final retention of the Canadian provinces. About the 
year 1760, Franklin, assisted by his friend Richard Jack- 
son, wrote a pamphlet entitled " The Interest of Great 
Britain considered tcith regard to the Colonies^ and the 
Acquisition of Canada and Giiadcdovpe.'''' In this work 
he demonstrated in a clear and forcible manner the advan- 
tages that would accrue to Great Britain from the proposed 
addition to her provincial territory. 

His prediction that ^'- there can never be mamfactures 
to any amount or value in America " did not look to the 
possibility of a protective tariff. " Manufactures." he says, 
" are founded in poverty : it is the multitude of poor with- 
out land in a country, and who must work for others at lo\f 



MANUFACTURES — COLONIAL JEALOUSY, ETC. 29 

wages or starve, that enables undertakers to carry on a 
manufacture, and afford it cheap enough to prevent the 
imnortation of the same kind from abroad, and to bear the 
expense of its own exportation. But no man, Avho can have 
a piece of land of his own, sufficient by his labor to subsist 
his family in plenty, is poor enough to be a manufacturer, 
and work for a master. Hence, while there is land enough 
in America for our people, there can never be manufactures 
to any amount or value." Could the writer have looked a 
century into the future, he Avould have been startled at the 
contradiction which time would give to these speculations. 

The idea of the indenendence of the American Colonies 
does not appear to have been seriously entertained by him 
at this time. He alludes to it as " a visionary danger." 
Of these Colonies, which American Independence and the 
American Constitution subsequently united in a harmonious 
sj^stem, he says : " Their jealousy of each other is so great, 
that, however necessary an union of the Colonies has long 
been for their common defence and security against their 
enemies, and how sensible soever each Colony has been of 
that necessity, yet they have never been able to effect such 
an union among themselves, nor even to agree in requesting 
the mother country to establish it for them." He repudi- 
ates the idea of a union of the Colonies against the mother 
country, but prudently adds a qualification in these w^ords : 
" When I say such an union is impossible, I mean ^ ivith- 
out the most grievous tyranny and oppresslon.^^ 

The Proprietaries appear to have found in him a steady 
and vigilant antagonist. When the annual share of the 
Parliamentary grant due for military and other expenses to 
Pennsylvania and the Delaware Colonies, and amounting 
to about thirty thousand pounds, became payable, he was 
employed by the Assembly to receive and invest the amount. 
The Proprietaries interfered to prevent this disposition of 
the money, claiming that their deputy, the Governor, ought 
to have a hand in the management of the fund. Here they 
were again baffled by Franklin ; for the ministry took his 
view of the matter, and decided that the money ought to be 
paid to the Assembly's agent. 

Notwithstanding Franklin's opposition to the usurpations 
of the Proprietaries, the latter were forced to admit that hig 
3* 



80 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

course was fair and unexceptionable. "I do not find," 
writes Thomas Penn, 'Hhat he has done me any prejudice 
with any party. I believe he has spent most of his time in 
philosophical, and especially in electrical, matters, having 
generally company in a morning to see those experiments, 
and musical performances on glasses, where any one that 
knows him carries his friends." The musical performances 
here referred to were on the Harmonica, an instrument con- 
trived by Franklin, being an improvement on the mode of 
using musical glasses. It was quite in vogue at one time 
in London. 

"He was gifted," says Mignet, "with the spirit of 
observation and inference above all other endowments. 
Observation conducted him to discovery, and inference to a 
practical application of it. Was he traversing the ocean, he 
made experiments u})on the temperature of the waters, and 
proved that the warmth of the water in the Gulf Stream 
was much greater than that of the water on each side of it. 
He thus revealed to mariners a simple mode of discovering 
when they were in the Gulf Stream. Was he listening to 
sounds produced by glasses put in vibration, he remarked 
that these sounds differed according to the size of the glass, 
and the relations to its width, capacity and contents. From 
these observations resulted the suggestion of a new musical 
instrument, and Franklin invented the Harmonica.* Did 
he chance to examine the loss of heat through the aperture 
of chimneys, and the imperfect combustion in a closed stove, 
he invented, from tliis double examination, by combining 
both means of heating, a chimney-place which was as 
economical as a stove, and a stove which was as open as a 
chimney-place. This stove, which is in the chimney-place 
form, was very generally adopted, and Franklin refused a 

* Franklio. possessed a strong natural taste for music. Leigh Hunt, 
speaking of his own mother, a Philadelphia lady, says : " Dr. Franklin 
offered to teach her the guitar, but she was too bashful to become his 
pupil. She regretted this afterward ; partly, no doubt, for having missed 
so illustrious a master. Her first child, who died, was named after him. I 
know not w'hether the anecdote is new, but I have heard that, when Dr. 
Franklin invented the Harmonica, he concealed it from his wife till the 
instrument was fit to play, and then woke her with it one night, when she 
took it for the m-usic of angels." In one of his letters to his wife, Frank- 
lin presents his best respects to " dear, precious Mrs. Shewell," who was 
Leigh Hunt's grandmother. 



SCIENTIFIC EXPERIMENTS. 31 

patent for the exclusive sale. But his most glorious and 
important discovery was that of the nature of lightning and 
the laws of electricity." 

The fact of the production of cold by evaporation, unfa- 
miliar at the time to science, was illustrated by him on sev- 
eral occasions, while in England. Some curious experi- 
ments, by wliich an extraordinary degree of cold, even to 
freezing, might be produced by evaporation, had been pre- 
viously communicated to him by Professor Simpson, of 
Glasgow. One of these was by wetting the ball of a ther- 
mometer with spirit of wine, thus causing the mercury to 
sink. Being at Cambridge, Franklin mentioned this to Dr. 
Hadley, professor of chemistry, and several interesting 
experiments were tried, of which an account is given by 
Franklin, in a letter to Dr. Lining. In another, to Dr. 
Heberden, he communicated some discoveries which he had 
made, to test a disputed question, in regard to the electrical 
peculiarities of the tourmaline, a stone found chiefly in the 
East Indies, and the chief constituents of which are silica 
and alumina. The transparent colored varieties are very 
beautiful. It was known to the ancients under the name 
of lynciirhnn. It was the opinion of ^pinus that the 
tourmaline is always endowecl with a positive and negative 
electricity at the same moment, these different states being 
confined to opposite sides of the fossil. Franklin satisfied 
himself that this account was well-founded. He also 
observed that the warmth of his finger, when he wore the 
stone, was sufficient to give it some degree of electricity, so 
that it was always ready to attract light bodies. He 
thought that experim.ents might have failed, in many 
instances, in consequence of the stones having been improp- 
erly cut by the lapidaries, or through omission to impart to 
them the full heat given by boiling water. 

In a letter to Alexander Small, of London, he communi- 
cates reasons, which he had long entertained, for the opinion 
that our north-east storms in North America begin first, in 
point of time, in the south-west parts : that is to say, the 
air in Georgia begins to move south-westerly before the air 
of Carolina, the air of Carolina before that of Virginia, and 
so on. Among his reasons for beheving this, w\as the fact 
that, some twenty years before, having been prevented by a 



82 BIEMOIR OP BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

north-east storm from witnessing an eclipse of the moon at 
Philadelphia, he subsequently learned that the eclipse was 
distinctly observed in Boston, and that the storm did not 
begin there till four hours after it had begun in Philadel- 
phia. The conjecture deduced from this and similar facts 
has been abundantly confirmed by later experience ; the 
telegraph now frequently reporting that a north-easterly 
storm is raging in Philadelphia, while the weather is yet 
clear in Boston. Franklin explained the phenomenon by 
supposing that, to produce our north-east storms, some 
great heat and rarefaction of the air must exist in or about 
tlie Gulf of Mexico ; the air thence rising has its place sup- 
plied by the next more northern, cooler, and therefore 
denser and heavier air ; that, bein^ in motion, is followed 
by the next more northern air, &c., in a successive current, 
to which current our coast and inland ridge of mountains 
give the direction of north-east, as they lie north-east and 
south-west. In a letter from London to Peter Franklin, he 
speculates on the saltness of sea- water, and inclines to the 
opinion that all the water on this globe was originally salt, 
and that the fi-esh water we find in springs and rivers is 
the produce of distillation. 

Several letters, written about this time to his landlady's 
intelligent daughter. Miss Stevenson, exhibit Franklin in a 
most amiable light. The mixture of playfulness with 
gravity, of the light-hearted pleasantry of the humorist 
with the profound insight of the sage, which they exhibit, 
is a combination as rare as it is charmins;. In one of these 
letters, in reply to the question from the young lady, why 
the water at Bristol^ though cold at the spring, becomes 
warrti hy jjumping, he says that it will be most prudent in 
him to forbear attempting to answer, till, by a more cir- 
cumstantial account, he is assured of the fact ; and he adds : 
" This prudence of not attempting to give reasons before 
one is sure of facts I learnt from one of your sex, who. as 
Selden tells us, being in company with some gentlemen that 
were viewing and considering something which they called 
a Chinese shoe, and disputing earnestly about the manner 
of wearing it, and how it could possibly be put on, put in 
her word, and said, modestly, ' Gentlemen, are you sure it 
is a shoe 7 Should not that be settled first 7 ' " 



VISIT TO RELATIONS IN ENGLAND. 33 

In another letter to the same ladj, after alluding to the 
study of entomology, and illustrating its importance by an 
anecdote, he advises a prudent moderation in the pursuit, 
lest more important things be sacrificed; "for," he says, 
"there is no rank in natural knowledge of equal dignity 
and importance with that of being a good parent, a good 
child, a good husband or wife, a good subject or citizen, 
— that is, in short, a good Christian. Nicholas Gimcrack, 
therefore., wdio neglected the care of his family to pursue 
butterflies, was a just object of ridicule, and we must 
give him up as fair game to the satirist." 

Aftei' being present, by invitation, at the Commencement 
at Cambridge, the beginning of July, 1758, Franklin went 
through Huntingdonshire into Northumberlandshire, in 
search of some of his own and his wife's English relatives. 
Although they were all in humble spheres of life, he seems 
to have taken genuine pleasure in finding them out and 
making himself known. "At Wellingborough," he says, in 
a letter to his wife, " on inquiry, we found still living Mary 
Fisher, whose maiden name was Franklin, daughter and 
only child of Thomas Franklin, my father's eldest brother; 
she is five years older than Sister Douse, and remembers her 
going away with my father and his then wife, and two 
other children, to New England, about the year 1685. We 
have had no correspondence with her since my Uncle Ben- 
jamin's death, now near thirty years. I knew she had 
lived at Wellingborough, and had married there to one Mr. 
Kichard Fisher, a grazier and tanner, about fifty years ago, 
but did not expect to see either of them alive, so inquired 
for their posterity. I was directed to their house, and we 
found them both alive, but weak with age, — very glad, how- 
ever, to see us : she seems to have been a very smart, sensi- 
ble woman. They are wealthy, have left off business, and 
live comfortably." From Wellingborough, Franklin and 
his son went to Ecton, about three or four miles, where his 
father was born, and his father, grandfiither and great- 
grandfather, had lived. He visited the old fiimily house, 
which he describes as "a decayed old stone building, but 
still known by the name of Franklin House." Here he 
made the acquaintance of the rector of the village and his 
wife, " a good-natured, chatty old lady," who remembered 



34 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

a good deal about the family. She led the way into the 
church-yard, "and sho\Yed us several grave-stones, which 
were so covered with moss that we could not read the letters 
till she ordered a hard brush and basin of water, with which 
Peter scoured them clean, and then Billy copied them." 

A group for a picture this ! Franklin, his son, and the 
"chatty old lady," and Peter scrubbing the moss and dust 
from the grave-stones of the philosopher's ancestors, " the 
rude forefathers of the hamlet ' ' ! 

The rector's wife told diverting stories of Thomas Frank- 
lin, Mrs. Fisher's father, who was a conveyancer and a bit 
of a lawyer, and was looked upon as something of a conjurer 
by some of the villagers. He was a leading man in county 
affairs, — set on foot a subscription for having chimes in the 
steeple, proposed an easy method to prevent the village 
meadows from being submerged, and, in short, exhibited 
many of the traits afterwards more conspicuously developed 
in the character of his illustrious nephew. " He died," says 
Franklin, "just four years before I was born, on the same 
day of the same month." Perhaps a notion of transmigra- 
tion slid into Franklin's brain, as he noted this coincidence. 

From Ecton, he went to Birmingham, where, upon in- 
quiry, he found out some of his wife's, "and Cousin Wilk- 
inson's, and Cousin Cash's relations." One was a button- 
maker, and another a turner; and one was a " livelv, 
active man, with six children ; " and they were all very glad 
to see any person that knew their relatives in America ; and 
Franklin was well pleased with them and with his visit. 
Returning to London, he found out a daughter of his 
father's only sister, very old, and never married; "a good, 
clever woman, but poor, though vastly contented Avith her 
situation, and very cheerful." Happening to hear that the 
child of a distant relation was in a destitute state, he took 
her home, and educated and maintained her till she was 
married. 

In February, 1759, the University of St. Andrew's con- 
ferred upon Franklin the degree of Doctor of Lavfs ; and in 
the summer of that year, accompanied by his son, he made 
a visit to Scotland, with which he seems to have been highly 
gratified. He here formed the acquaintance of David 
Hume and Dr. Robertson, the historians, Lord Karnes and 



ACADEMIC HONORS. 3t 

other eminent scholars and writers. In a letter some 
months afterwards to Lord Kames, he alludes to his six 
weeks spent in Scotland as a period of "the densest hap- 
piness" he had met with in any part of his life; and he 
adds : " The agreeable and instructive society we found there 
in such plenty has left so pleasing an impression on my 
memory, that, did not strong connections draw me el^eAvhere, 
I believe Scotland would be the country I should choose to 
spend the remainder of my days in." On hearing that 
Franklin was about to return to America, David Hume 
wrote to him : "I am very sorry that you intend soon to 
leave our hemisphere. America has sent us many good 
things, — gold, silver, sugar, tobacco, indigo (?), &c. ; but 
you are the first philosopher, and, indeed, the first great 
man of letters, for whom we are beholden to her." During 
a second visit to Scotland, in 1771, Franklin passed some 
three weeks in Edinburgh, during which he lodged with 
David Hume. 

Academic honors, similar to those awarded by the Uni- 
versity of St. Andrew's, were conferred on Franklin by the 
Universities of Oxford and Edinburgh ; and, by the former 
of these last, the degree of Master of Arts was conferred on 
his son William. Another distinction awaited the latter. 
Through the influence of Lord Bute, he was appointed Gov- 
ernor of New Jersey.* 

* Franklin was subjected to some uncharitable attacks in consequence 
of this appointment. A caricature of him, published in Philadelphia, 
contained these lines : 

" All his designs concentre in himself. 
For building castles and amassing pelf ; 
The public 'tis his wit to sell for gain, 
Vl horn private property did ne'er maintain." 

False in spirit and in fact, these lines indicate the malevolence of his 
enemies, and the abuse to which Franklin, in common with Washington 
and other great men, was subjected. 

William Franklin was born in 1731. He was a captain in the French 
and English war, and fought bravely under Abercrombie at Ticonderoga. 
He was for a time popular as Governor of New Jerse^^ ; but, taking sides 
with the ministry, he was deslai-ed by the Congress of New .Jersey to be 
an enemy to liberty, and was seized in his own house at Pertli Amboy, 
and conveyed a prisoner to Connecticut. In 1778, he was exchanged and 
released. He went to England at the close of the war, whore he resided 
until his death, in November, 1813, in the receipt of a pension from the 



36 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 



III. 

After a sojourn of more than five years in England, 
Franklin sailed for home, the latter part of August, 1762. 
His vessel, being under convoy of a man-of-war, was 
obliged to touch at Madeira, and remained there a few days ; 
so that it was the first of November before he arrived in 
Philadelphia. He was welcomed Avith enthusiasm by his 
many political and personal friends. He found his wife and 
daughter well; "the latter grown quite a woman, with 
many amiable accomplishments acquired in my absence, and 
my friends as hearty and affectionate as ever ; with whom 
my house was filled for many days, to congratulate me on 
my return." During his absence he had been annually 
elected a member of the Assembly ; and now that body 
passed a vote of thanks " as well for the faithful discharge 
of his duty to that province in particular, as for the m;iny 
and important services done to America in general, during 
his residence in Great Britain." They voted him also a 
more substantial testimonial, in a compensation of three 
thousand pounds sterling for his six years' service. 

John Penn, son and presumptive heir of Kichard Penn, 
one of the joint proprietors, succeeded Hamilton as governor 
in October, 1763. He entered upon his official duties at a 
time when the back settlers of Pennsylvania were in a state 
of great excitement, because of the depredations of the con- 
federated tribes of Indians, under the instigation of Pon- 
tiac, upon the frontiers of that province ; hundreds of per- 
sons had been plundered and slain, fixmilies driven from 
their homes, and a state of constant disquiet and alarm 
produced among the settlers, who were goaded to exasper- 
ation by the cruelties that had been practised. The Penn- 
sylvania borderers were chiefly Presbyterians of Scotch 
and Irish descent, and religious a»tipathy and fanaticism 
concurred to inflame their resentment. The scriptural 

British government of four thousand dollars per annum. He left a son, 
William Temple Franklin, who edited his grandfatlier's works, and died 
at Paris in 1823. In his will, after making a few inconsiderable 
bequests to his son, Franklin remarks : " The part he acted against me in 
the late war, which is of public notoriety, will account for my leaving 
him no more of an estate he endeavored to deprive me of ' ' 



THE PAXTON MASSACRE. 61 

command, that Joshua should destroy the heathen, was 
conveniently construed into an injunction to Pennsylvanians 
to exterminate the Indians. 

In December, 1763, a band of Indian haters from Pax- 
ton, a little town on the east bank of the Susquehannah, 
made an excursion to Conestoga, some distance above, and 
slaughtered, in cold blood, six poor Indians, chiefly women 
and old men, belonging to a remnant of twenty of the Iro- 
quois tribe, living in a peaceable manner under the super- 
intendence of Moravian missionaries. After this outrage, 
the other Indians belono;ino; to the settlement, and who did 
not happen to be in the village at the time of the massacre, 
were lodged for safety in Lancaster jail. The Governor 
issued a proclamation denouncing the massacre, and offer- 
ing a reward for the guilty parties. But the Paxton men, 
instead of being intimidated, ventured upon an aggravation 
of their crime. On the 27th of December, a partj^ of about 
fifty ruffians rode at a gallop into Lancaster, broke into a 
yard adjacent to the jail where the Indians were assembled, 
and slaughtered them all, without regard to age or sex. 
Another proclamation was issued by the Governor ; but so 
audacious had the rioters become, that a number of them 
marched in arms to Philadelphia to pursue some other 
friendly Indians, who had taken refuge in that city. This 
was towards the end of January, 1764. The detachment of 
rioters numbered from five to fifteen hundred men. They 
were inflamed by exasperation at once against the Indians 
and the Quakers, looking upon the latter, through their 
opposition to defensive measures, as aiders and abettors of 
the barbarities inflicted by the former. There was a con- 
siderable class in Philadelphia who sympathized with the 
rioters. Franklin was now, as ever, found arrayed on the 
side of humanity and justice. The persecuted and detested 
Indians found in him a zealous champion and protector. 
He wrote a pamphlet, giving a narrative of the massacre, 
and calling earnestly on "all good men '' to "join heartily 
and unanimously in support of the laws." The Assembly 
having passed a vote extending the English riot-act to the 
. province, he organized, at the Governor's request, military 
companies composed of the citizens, and exerted himself 
most effectually in giving the right direction to a divided 
4 



38 MEMOIK OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

public sentiment. In a letter to Lord Karnes, relating to 
this period, he sajs : " Near one thousand of the citizens 
accordingly took arms. Governor Penn made mj house for 
some time his head-quarters, and did everything by my ad- 
vice ; so that, for about forty-eight hours, I was a very 
great man, as I had been once some years before, in a 
time of public danger. But the fighting face we put on, 
and the reasonings we used with the insurgents (for I went, 
at the request of the Governor and Council, with three 
others, to meet and discourse with them), having turned 
them back and restored quiet to the city, I became a less 
man than ever, for I had by this transaction made myself 
many enemies among the populace ; and the Governor 
(with whose family our public disputes had long placed me 
in an unfriendly light, and the services I had lately ren- 
dered him not being of the kind that make a man acceptable), 
thinking it a favorable opportunity, joined the whole weight 
of the Proprietary interest to get me out of the Assembly. ' ' 

The rioters havinsi: advanced as far as Gcrmantown, 
within six miles of Philadelphia, Franklin, with three other 
influential citizens, was deputed to go out and confer with 
them. The deputation was received with respect, and pre- 
vailed upon the rioters to abandon their hostile project. 
Franklin's conduct was the more creditable throughout this 
affair, as it exposed him to the abatement of his popularity 
among a class from whom he had hitherto derived much 
political support. 

He was at this time a member of the Board of Commis- 
sioners for the disposal of the public money in carrying on 
the war against the Indians, and his labors in this capacity 
were quite arduous. He still held the office of Postmaster- 
general. In the spring of 1763 he made a tour through 
the northern colonies, to inspect and regulate the post- 
offices. He travelled some sixteen hundred miles, and did 
not get home till the beginning of November. He was 
accompanied, during a considerable part of the journey, 
by his daughter, on horseback. 

Governor Penn was no more fortunate than his pre- 
decessors in avoiding collisions with the Assembly. Frank- 
lin, who had resumed his place in that body, was still the 
leader of the opposition. A militia bill; which he had 



PROPOSES A CHANGE Or GOVERNMENT. 39 

framed, was vetoed bj tlie Governor, who claimed the 
appointment of officers, and made other arbitrary demands 
which were inadmissible. The Paxton riots showed the 
danger of the absence of an organized military force. 
Franklin published an account of the loss of the militia 
bill, and he did not spare the Proprietary p:irty in his 
animadversions. Other difficulties ensued between the 
Assembly ami the Governor, in w^hich the latter showed 
himself intractable. Persuaded that the evils of the Pro- 
prietary system were incurable, Franklin, in the early part 
of 1764. published a tract entitled " Cool Thoughts on the 
Present Situation of Public Affiiirs," in which he proposed 
the substitution of a Royal for a Proprietary government. 
Numerous petitions to the king in favor of the change 
were sent in to the Assembly. A petition from the As- 
sembly to the king, to the same effect, was drafted by 
Franklin, and warmly discussed. John Dickinson, a wealthy 
lawyer of Philadelphia, was one of the ablest supporters of 
the Proprietary interest. It being proposed to send Frank- 
lin to England as bearer of the petition, Dickinson re- 
marked, in a speech to the Assembly : ' ' The gentleman 
proposed has been called here to-day a great luminary of 
the learned world. Far be it from me to detract from 
the merit I admire. Let him still shine, but without 
wrapping his country in flames. Let him, from a private 
station, from a smaller sphere, diffuse, as I think he may, a 
beneficial light : but let him not be made to move and blaze 
like a comet, to terrify and distress." 

Norris, Speaker of the Assembly, was also opposed to 
Franklin's project, and, refusing to sign the petition, he 
resigned his seat, and Franklin was chosen in his stead, 
and signed the petition as Speaker. He was ably seconded 
in his opposition to the existing system by Joseph Gal- 
loway, an eminent lawyer. A speech which the latter 
delivered in reply to Dickinson was published with a 
preface by Franklin, which is one of his most adroit and 
caustic political essays. 

At the annual election, in the autumn of 1764, the Pro- 
prietary party made great efforts to defeat him ; and, after 
having been elected to the Assembly fourteen successive 
years, Franklin lost his election by a majority of about 



40 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

twenty-five votes. The Proprietary party were muct- 
elated at this result, but their joy was of very transient 
duration. It was found that the anti-Proprietary party 
were in a large majority in the Assembly, notwithstanding 
Franklin's defeat. One of their first acts was to choose him 
their agent to take charge of their petition to the king for a 
change of government. Great was the consternation of the 
Proprietary party on finding that, in excluding Franklin 
from the Assembly, they had placed him in a position 
where his powers of opposition were incalculably enlarged. 
They were greatly enrao-ed at being "headed off" in this 
unexpected manner. They signed a solemn Protest, which 
they presented to the Assembly, against Franklin's appoint- 
ment ; but it was refused admission upon the minutes. The 
vindictive personal opposition raised on this occasion against 
him Avas hardly allayed during his whole protracted public 
career. Wherever slander was busiest, it might be traced 
to some old grievance connected with the movement against 
the Proprietary system. Before departing for England on 
this second mission, he wrote some remarks in reply to the 
Protest. The opposition to him had come from men with 
whom he had long been associated both in public and 
private life. He felt their estrangement deeply. They 
were men " the very ashes of whose former friendship," he 
said, he " revered." " I am now," he remarked, in con- 
clusion, "to take leave — perhaps a last leave — of the 
country I love, and in which I have spent the greatest part 
of my life. Esto perpetua ! I wish every kind of pros- 
perity to my friends, and I forgive my enemies." 

On leaving Philadelphia to embark for England, he was 
escorted by a cavalcade of three hundred of his friends to 
Chester, where he was to go on board his vessel. He 
sailed tlie next day, but was detained a night in the Dela- 
ware. He arrived at Portsmouth, in England, after a 
voyage of thirty days. Proceeding at once to London, he 
established himself in his old quarters at Mrs. Stevenson's, 
This was in December, 1764. 



THIRD VISIT TO ENSLAND. 41 



lY. 



In opposition to the remonstrances of Franklin and tlio 
a2;ents in Eno-land of Massachusetts and Connecticut, a bill 
for collecting a stamp tax was brought into Parliament 
early in the year 1765. In reply to a notification, in the 
winter of 1763-4, that a stamp duty was intended, it was 
urged by Franklin, in the Assembly of Pennsylvania, that 
the Colonies had always granted liberally to his majesty on 
the proper requisitions being made ; that they had granted 
so liberally during the late war that the king had recom- 
mended it to Parliament to make them some compensation, 
and the Parliament accordingly returned them two hundred 
thousand pounds a year, to be divided among them ; that 
the proposition of taxing them in Parliament was, therefore, 
both cruel and unjust ; that, by the constitution of the 
Colonies, their business was with the king in matters of 
aid. So far from refusing to grant money, as had been 
asserted, the Pennsylvania Assembly passed a resolution to 
the effect that, as they always had, so they always should 
think it their duty, according to their abilities, to grant aid 
to the crown whenever required of them in the usual con- 
stitutional manner. A copy of this resolution Franklin 
brought with him to England, and presented it to Mr. 
Grenville, before the Stamp Act was brought in. Similar 
resolutions had been passed by other colonies. " Hcid Mr. 
Grenville," said Franklin, subsequently, " instead of that 
act, applied to the king in council for such requisitional 
letters to be circulated by the Secretary of State, I am 
sure he would have obtained more money from the Colonies 
by their voluntary grants than he himself expected from liis 
stamps. But he chose compulsion rather than persuasion, 
and would not receive from their good-will what he thought 
he could obtain without it." 

The passage of the Stamp Act called forth one unani- 
mous voice of reprobation and protest from the Colonies. 
The act had been most strenuously opposed by Fi-anklin ; 
but he was subjected, notwithstanding his efforts against it, 
to charges of having given it his approval. Tucker, Dean 
of Gloucester, in a book on the colonial troubles, spoke of 
"a certain American patriot" who had applied for the 
4* 



42 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN EllANKLIN. 

appointment of stamp officer in America. It was undei 
stood that tlie allusion was to Franklin, and be thought it 
of sufficient importance to notice, which he did in a respect- 
ful letter to the dean, in which he says : " I beg leave to 
request that you would reconsider the grounds on which 
you have ventured to publish an accusation that, if believed, 
must prejudice me extremely in the opinion of good men, 
especially in my own country, whence I was sent expressly 
to oppose the imposition of that tax." All the foundation 
for the charge appears to have been the simple circumstance 
tliat Franklin, in common with other American agents, was 
drawn in to nominate, at the request of the minister, suitable 
persons in the Colonies for the proposed new^ offices. Frank- 
lin, never imagining that his compliance with this request 
would be construed into a proof of his approbation of the 
Stamp Act, nominated Mr. Hughes for the province of 
Pennsylvania. In concluding his letter to Dean Tucker, 
Franklin says : 

" I desire you to believe that I take kindly, as I oxiglit, your freely 
mentioning to me ' that it has long appeared to you that I much exceeded 
the bounds of morality in the methods I pursued for the advancement of 
the supposed interests of America.' I am sensible there is a good deal of 
truth in the adage that our sins and our debts are always more than, we 
take them to be ; and though I cannot at present, on examination of my 
conscience, charge myself with any immorality of that kind, it becomes 
me to suspect that "what has long appeared to you may have some found- 
ation. You are so good as to add, that ' if it can be proved you have 
unjustly suspected me, you shall have a satisfaction in acknowledging the 
error.' It is often a thing hard to^?-oi-e that suspicions are unjust, even 
when we know what they are ; and harder, when we are unacquainted 
with them. I must presume, therefore, that in mentioning them you 
had an intention of communicating the grounds of them to me, if I should 
request it ; which I now do, and, I assure you, with a sincere desire and 
design of amending what you may show me to have been wrong in my 
conduct, and to thank you for the admonition." 

To this reasonable request Franklin never received any 
reply. 

There was a change of ministry in July, 1765, and Mr. 
Grenville was succeeded in office, as First Lord of the 
Treasury, by the Marquis of Rockingham. The subject of 
a repeal of the Stamp Act was the agitating topic before 
Parliament. Mr. Pitt, afterwards Earl of Chatham, took 
high ground against the right of the kingdom to lay a tax 
upon the Colonies. Taxation, he contended, was no part 



EXAMINATION BEFORE THE HOUSE OF COMMONS. 43 

of the governing or legislative power. The taxes were the 
voluntary gift and grant of the Commons alone. The Com- 
moners of America, represented in their several Assemblies, 
alone had the constitutional right of giving and granting 
their own money. Mr. Grenville was one of the principal 
speakers in reply. His argument was, that protection and 
obedience being reciprocal, smce Great Britain protected 
America, America was bound to yield obedience. 

On the third of February, 1766, Franklin was summoned 
before the House of Commons, and subjected to an" examina- 
tion upon facts relative to the repeal of the Stamp Act. He 
was plied with questions by Grenville and his friends and 
Charles Townshend. Without preparation, he submitted to 
a series of very close inquiries, various in their character, 
and demanding very extensive information in the respond- 
ent. The promptitude, sagacity and independence of his 
replies, with the simple and expressive diction in which 
they were conveyed, and his self-poised but unassuming 
deportment, commanded the respect of all parties. In 
answer to the interrogatories addressed to him, he said that 
there was not gold and silver enough in the Colonies to pay 
the stamp duty for one year ; that it was not true that 
America was protected by Great Britam, and paid no part 
of the expense; that the Colonies raised, clothed and paid, 
during the last war, near twenty-five thousand men. and 
spent many millions ; that the temper of America towards 
Great Britain, before the year 1763, was the best in the 
world, and to be an old England man was of itself a 
character of some respect, and gave a kind of rank among 
Americans : but that their temj^er now was very much 
altered. 

To the inquiry whether he thought the Americans would 
submit to pay the stamp duty if it were lessened, he 
re|)lied, ''No, never ! unless compelled by force of arms." 
" May not a military force carry the Stamp Act into ex- 
ecution ? " asked one of his interrogators. Franklin 
replied : " Suppose a military force sent into America : they 
will find nobody in arms ; what are they, then, to do 7 
They cannot force a man to take stanjps Avho chooses to do 
without them. They will not find a rebellion ; they may, 
indeed, make one." " Supposing the Stamp Act continued 



44 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

and enforced, do yon imagine that ill-liumor will induce the 
Americans to give as much for worse manufactures of their 
own, and use them in preference to better of ours?" 
'■' Yes, I think so. People will pay as freely to gratify one 
passion as another^ — their resentment as their prided' 
"Would the people at Boston discontinue their trade 7 " 
" The merchants are a very small number, compared with 
the body of the people; and must discontinue their trade, if 
nobody will buy their goods." " What are the body of the 
people in the Colonies '? " "They are farmers, husband- 
men, or planters." " Would they suffer the produce of 
their lands to rot '? " " No : but they would not raise so 
much. They would manufacture more, and plough less." 
"I do not know a single article," he subsequently affirmed. 
" imported into the northern Colonies, that they cannot 
either do without or make themselves." 

In less than three weeks after Franklin's examination, a 
motion for leave to bring in a bill for the repeal of the 
American Stamp Act was introduced into the House of 
Commons. It was vehemently opposed by Grenville. 
"Do not die," he said, "from the fear of dying. With a 
little firmness, it will be easy to compel the colonists to 
obedience." In the course of this debate, Burke made his 
first speech in the House of Commons. It was in behalf 
of the colonists, and drew from Mr. Pitt a Avarm encomium. 
In spite of much infl.uential opposition, a bill to repeal the 
Stamp Act was introduced on the 26th of February. It 
received the royal assent on the 18th of March. But the 
tranquillizing effect of this repeal among the colonists was 
marred by the simultaneous passage of a declaratory act, as 
it was called, by which it was asserted that the king, with 
the consent of the Lords and Commons in Parliament assem- 
bled, had undoubted power and authority to make laws of 
sufficient force " to bind the Colonies and people of America 
in all cases whatsoever." This declaration was as absurd 
and supererogatory as it was ofiensive ; and it only added 
fuel to the flames of resentment which the passage of the 
Stamp Act had kindled, and which its repeal, in consequence 
of this ungracious asseveration, did not suffice to extinguish. 

Fraiddin had been instructed by the Pennsylvania 
Assembly to solicit the repeal of the restraints laid upon the 



SHAPES PUBLIC OPINION. 45 

issue of paper money as a legal tender. Finding that the 
time for urging the repeal was unpropitious, and fearing 
lest the agitation of tlie question might lead to the adoption 
on the part of the ministry of a scheme, entertained by Mr. 
ToAvnshend, for the manufacture by the British government 
of paper money for the Colonies, he recommended to the 
Assembly that some means should be resorted to by which 
the credit of issues of paper money could be supported with- 
out making it a legal tender. The principal o])ject of his 
mission was not meanwhile forgotten. The question of 
purchasing from the Proprietaries of Pennsylvania their 
right of jurisdiction, leaving to them their lands, was dis- 
cussed in the British cabinet, but the continued warlike 
tone of the colonists interrupted and soon rendered nugatory 
the consideration of the subject. There began to be a pros- 
pect that the difficulties with the Proprietaries would be 
settled simultaneously with those with the "mother coun- 
try," and in a like summary manner. 

By correspondence with friends in both countries, Frank- 
lin did much co enlighten public opinion in regard to the 
claims and rights of the Colonies, and the injustice of the 
; ministerial pohcy. "The British empire," he contended, 
; "was not a single state; it comprehended many; and, 
j though the Parliament of Great Britain had arrogated to 
, itself the power of taxing the Colonies, it had no more right 
) to do so than it had to tax Hanover. The Colonies had 
the same king, but not the same legislatures." To Lord 
I Kames he wrote in 1767 : " Every man in England seems 
to consider himself as a piece of a sovereign over America ; 
; seems to jostle himself into the throne with the king, and 
[ talks of our subjects in America.^ ^ "America, an im- 
. mense territory, favored by nature, with all advantages of 
[ climate, soils, great navigable rivers, lakes, &c., must 
J become a great country, populous and mighty ; and will, in 
) a less time than is generally conceived, be able to shake 
) oiF any shackles that may be imposed upon her, and perhaps 
, place them on the imposers." 



46 MExMOm OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 



V. 

The act of Parliament for quartering troops in the 
Colonies had Ccaiised great dissatisfaction. The chancellor 
of the Exchequer, Charles Townshend, in January, 1767, 
brought forward a new scheme for raising a revenue in 
America, including not onlj the maintenance of a standing 
army, but the provision of permanent salaries for the 
governors and judges, rendering them independent of the 
Colonial Assemblies. This scheme was adopted by Parlia- 
ment with little opposition. A Board of Revenue Commis- 
sioners for America, to have its seat at Boston, v/as estab- 
lished ; and not only tea, but several articles of British 
ju'oduce, were made objects of custom-house taxation in the 
Colonies. These measures were there regarded as quite as 
odious as the Stamp Act ; for it was contended by the 
leading colonists that • ' taxes on trade, if designed to raise a 
revenue, w^ere just as much a violation of their rights as 
any other tax." This position was advocated by Frank- 
lin's old political opponent, John Dickinson, in his cele- 
brated " Farmer's Letters," a work which Franklin, for- 
getting all former differences, caused to be reprinted and 
circulated in London, prefacing the edition with commenda- 
tory remarks of his own. Although he had at first made a 
distinction between taxes on imported commodities and 
internal taxes, and w^as of opinion that the American griev- 
ance was not that Britain put duties upon her own manu- 
factures exported to the Colonies, but that she forbade the 
latter to buy the like manufactures from any other country, 
he finally adopted the views advanced by Dickinson in 
Pennsylvania, and which were eloquently maintained by 
James Otis in Massachusetts. 

The ministerial measures were met with a determined 
opposition in the Colonies, especially in Boston, wdiere the 
newly-appointed revenue commissioners had to fly for their 
lives. New supplies of British troops Avere now poured 
into that refractory town to quell the spirit of resistance. 
_ Ihe Boston Gazette has occasioned some heats, and the 
Boston resolutions a prodigious clatter." writes Franklin to 
his son, under date of London, January 9th 1768- "I 



#1 



VISITS TO THE CONTINENT. 47 

have endeavored to palliate matters for them as well as I 
can. I send you my manuscript of one paper, though I 
think you take the Chronicle. The editor of that paper, 
one Jones, seems a Grenvillian, or is very cautious, as you 
will see by his corrections and omissions. He has (h'awn 
the teeth and pared the nails of my paper, so that it can 
neither scratch nor bite. It seems only to paw and mum- 
ble." The piece in the Chronicle, to which Franklin here 
alludes, was entitled Causes of the American Discontents. 
Two other pieces, one on Smiiggiing, and the other on 
the Laboring Poor., were published about this time ; the 
former in the Chronicle, and the latter in the Gentleman'' s 
Magazine. 

On the change of ministry in 1768, the office of Secre- 
tary for the Colonies was created, and given to Lord Hills- 
borough, " a little alert man of business, but passionate and 
headstrong," as Franklin describes him. " I am told there 
has been a talk of getting me appointed under-secretary to 
Lord Hillsborough," he writes to his son; "but with little 
likelihood, as it is a settled point here that I am too much 
of an American."* Lideed, according to his own expression, 
he had rendered himself suspected, by his impartiality, "in 
England of being too much of an American, and in America 
of being too much of an Englishman." Listead of being 
appointed to a new office, there was now a motion to deprive 
him of his deputy-postmastership for the Colonies. "If 
Mr. Grenville," he writes to his son, "comes into power 
again in any department respecting America, I must refuse 
to accept of anything that may seem to put me in his power, 
because I a}>prehend a breach between the two countries ; 
and that refusal might give offence. So that you see a turn 
of a die may make a great difference in our affairs. We 
may be either promoted or discarded." 

A report that Franklin was intriguing for office under 
the ministry reached Pennsylvania, and Avas readily enter- 
tained by his political adversaries. Did not the whole tenor 
of his life and correspondence contradict it ? A moment's 
consideration will show that he was in such a position that 
he had only to give in his adhesion to the ministry to obtain 
any office that he might in reason covet. 

He made two visits to the continent, wl|ile affairs were 



18 MEMOIll OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

ripeiiinn- between Great Britain and her Colonies. One of 
these vr^its was in the summer of 1T6G, and the other ni 
September, 1T6T. In both he was accompanied by his 
"steady, good friend, Sir John Pringle." He was gone 
eight weeks on his first excursion, and visited Gottingen, 
Hanover, and some of the principal cities of Germany. In 
the second visit, he went to Paris, and was received with 
marked attention. At A^ersailles he was presented to the 
king and his sisters, and in Paris he formed the acquaint- 
ance of many distinguished men of science. He subse- 
quently told John Adams that, during this visit, Sir John 
Pringle " did all his conversation for him, as interpreter, 
and tliat he understood and spoke French with great diffi- 
culty " until his official visit in 1776. If this were so, 
Franklin must have acquired his proficiency in French after 
his sixty-first year. He again visited Paris in the summer 
of 1769, passing several weeks there. 

In 1768 he was appointed agent for Georgia; and, two 
years later, for iMassachusetts. He has given an amusing 
account of his interview with Lord Hillsborough, on going 
to present his credentials as agent for the last-named 
province. Franklin had checkmated his lordship in several 
political movements, and had been in the habit of writing 
very freely to his correspondents in both countries in rela- 
tion to ministerial measures. An indiscreet or treacherous 
use was undoubtedly made of some of his letters, by publish- 
ins; them, or forwardino- them to the ministers. The threat 
was thrown out that he would lose his appointment in the 
American post-office. He repudiated the idea that every 
man who holds an office should act Avith the ministry, and 
he continued to be independent in this regard. " Possibly," 
he said, " they may remove me; but no apprehension of 
that sort will, I trust, make the least alteration in my 
political conduct. My rule, in which I have always found 
satisfaction, is, never to turn aside in public affiiirs through 
views of private interest; but to go straight forward in 
doing what appears to me right at the time, leaving the 
consequences with Providence." 

On Franklin's introducing himself to Lord Hillsborough 
as the authorized agent of Massachusetts, his lordship inter- 
rupted him with, " I must set you right there, Mr. Frank- 



DEALINGS WITH LORD HILLSBOROUGH. 49 

lin ; you are not agent." " I do not understand your 
lordship. I have the appointment in my pocket.'" His 
lordship remarked that the bill had not received the assent 
of Governor Hutchinson. " There was no bill, my lord. 
It Avas by a vote of the House." His lordship summoned 
his secretary, and asked for the Governor's letter ; but, on 
examination, found that it contained nothing in relation to 
the agent. " I thought it could not well be," said Frank- 
lin, " as my letters are by the last ships, and they mention 
no such thing. Here is the authentic copy of the vote of 
the House appointing me, in which there is no mention of 
any act intended. Will your lordship please to look at it?" 
His lordship took the paper reluctantly, and, without con- 
descending to read it, launched into a rebuke of the prac- 
tice of appointing agents by vote of the Assembly, without 
the Governor's assent. Franklin susjo-ested that, inasmuch 
as the agent was employed to transact the business of the 
people and not of the Governor, the people had a right to 
appoint their agents, independently of him, through their 
representatives. His lordship would not be convinced 
against his will. He handed back to Franklin his creden- 
tials unread ; and Franklin, whose demeanor thus far had 
been marked with the most imperturbable good-humor, not- 
withstanding his provocations, took his leave, sarcastically 
remarking to his lordship that it was plainly '' of very little 
consequence whether the appointment was acknowledged or 
not, for it was clear to his mind that, as affairs were now 
administered, an agent could be " of no use to any of tho 
Colonies." 

In 1772, Lord Hillsborough gave in his resignation, a 
step which Franklin had done much to accelerate, by over- 
ruling his Report on a proposed grant of land in Ohio, and 
thus exhibiting to the king and ministers his lordship's 
incompetency to manage colonial affliirs. To a question put 
by a person high at court to Franklin, whether he could 
name another person likely to be more acceptable to the 
Colonies, he replied: "Yes, there is Lord Dartmouth ; we 
liked him very well when he was at the head of the board 
formerly, and in all probability should again." Lord 
Dartmouth was appointed to succeed Lord Hillsborough. 

Prior to Lord Hillsborough's resignation, Franklin was 
5 



50 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

entertained bj him. at liis place in Ireland. In a letter to 
Thomas Cushing, Franklin writes : "Being in Dublin at 
the same time with his lordship, I met with him accident- 
ally at the Lord Lieutenant's, who had happened to invitd 
us to dine with a large company on the same day. Ah 
there was something curious in our interview, I must give 
you an account of it. He was surprisingly civil, and urged 
my fellow-travellers and me to call at his house in oui 
intended journey northward, where we might be sure of 
better accommodations than the inns would afford us. Ht; 
pressed us so politely, that it was not easy to refuse without 
apparent rudeness, as we must pass through his town, 
Hillsborough, and by his door ; and, therefore, as it might 
afford an opportunity of saying something on American 
affairs, I concluded to comply w^ith his invitation. His 
lordship went home some time before we left Dublin. We 
called upon him, and were detained at his house four days, 
during which time he entertained us with great civility, and 
a particular attention to me, that appeared the more extraor- 
dinary, as I knew that just before we left London he had 
expressed himself concerning me in very angry terms, call- 
ing me a republican, a factious, mischievous fellow, and the 
like. 

'' He seemed attentive to everything that might make my 
stay in his house agreeable to me, and put his eldest son, 
Lord Killwarling, into his phaeton with me, to drive me a 
round of forty miles, that I might see the country, the seats 
and manufactures, covering me with his own great-coat, lest 
I should take cold. In short, he seemed extremely solicit- 
ous to impress me, and the Colonies through me, with a good 
opinion of him. All which I could not but wonder at, 
knowino; that he likes neither them nor me ; and I thouo-ht 
it inexplicable but on the supposition that he apprehended 
an approaching storm, and was desirous of lessening before- 
hand the number of enemies he had so imprudently created. 
But, if he takes no steps towards withdrawing the troops, 
repealing the duties, restoring the Castle,^ or recalling the 
offensive instructions, I shall think all the plausible behavior 
I have described is meant only, by patting and stroking the 

* Castle William, in Boston Harbor. 



A lord's caprices. 51 

horse, to make him more patient, while the reins are drawn 
tighter, and the spurs set deeper into his sides." 

On his return to London, Franklin waited on Lord Hills- 
boi'ough, to thank him for his civilities in Ireland, and to 
discourse with him on a Georgia affair. " The porter," says 
Franklin, "told me he w^as not at home. I left my card, 
went another time, and received the same answer, though I 
knew he was at home, a friend of mine beino- -with him. 
After intermissions of a week each, I made two more visits, 
and received the same answer. The last time was on a 
levee day, when a number of carriages were at his door. 
My coachman, driving up, alighted and was opening the 
coach-door, when the porter seeing me, came out, and surlily 
chid the coachman for opening the door before he had 
inquired whether my lord was at home ; and then turning 
to me, said, ' My lord is not at home.' I have never since 
been nigh him, and we have only abused one another at a 
distance." 

Franklin was destined to experience still another instance 
of his lordship's caprice. Being at Oxford with Lord Le 
Despencer, Lord H. called upon Lord Le D., who was 
occupying the same chamber w^ith Franklin, in Queen's 
College. '• I was in the inner room, shifting," writes 
Franklin, in a letter to his son, "and heard his voice, but 
did not see him, as he went down stairs immediately with 
Lord Le D., who mentioning that I was above, he returned 
directly, and came to me in the pleasantest manner imagin- 
able. 'DrF.,' said he, ' I did no.t know till this minute 
that you were here, and I am come back to make you my 
how. I am glad to see you at Oxford, and that you look 
so well,' &c. In return for this extravagance, I compli- 
mented him on his son's performance in the theatre, though, 
indeed, it was but indifferent, — so that account was settled. 
For as people say, wdien they are angry, if he strike m^e, 
I '11 strike him again; I think sometimes it may be right 
to say, if he flatters me^ I ^11 flatter him. again. This is 
'lex taliofiis, returning offences in kind. His son, however 
(Lord Fairford), is a valuable young man, and his daugh- 
ters. Ladies iNIary and Charlotte, most amiable young women. 
My quarrel is only with him, w^ho of all the men I ever met 



52 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

%Yit]i is surely tlie most unequal in his treatment of people-, 
the most hisincere, and the most Avrong-heacled." 

In April 1770, Parliament repealed the whole of Towns- 
hend's act for raising a revenue in America, excepting the 
tax on tea. But as the exception involved the whole prin- 
ciple against which the Colonists were contending, their dis- 
satisfaction was increased, rather than abated, by this par- 
tially retrograde legislation. Franklin had, for the last 
three years, urged upon Americans the adoption of resolu- 
tions to forego the use of imported goods. To a committee 
of Philadelphia merchants he writes : "I hope you will — 
if backed by the general honest resolutions of the people to 
buy British goods of no others, but to manufacture for 
themselves, or use colony manufactures only — be the 
means, under God, of recovering and establishing the free- 
dom of our country entire, and of handing it down complete 
to posterity." In reply to questions addressed to him, in 
November 1769, by his friend William Strahan, member 
of Parliament, he had given it as his opinion that a repeal 
of the revenue laws, excepting the duty on tea, would not 
fully satisfy the Colonists, — an opinion which was soon 
abundantly verified. He was now the commissioned agent 
of four of the American Colonies, namely, Pennsylvania, 
Georgia, Massachusetts and New Jersey, and his time was 
fully occupied. 



VI. 

Notwithstanding the absorbing nature of his political 
business, Franklin gave much of his attention to scientific 
and economical questions of public utility. He corre- 
sponded with Dr. Cadwallader Evans, of Philadelphia, in 
regard to the culture of silk, and earnestly recommended a 
trial of the experiment in America. He hoped that our 
people would not be disheartened by a few accidents; " by 
diligence and patience the mouse ate in twain the cable." 
In 1771 he made an excursion through various parts of 
England, Wales, Ireland and Scotland. At Leeds, he vis- 
ited his attached friend Dr. Priestley, at Manchester, Dr. 
Percival, and at Litchfield, Dr. Erasmus Darwin, the cel^ 



AGREEABLE POSITION IN ENGLAND. 5b 

brated poet and naturalist. In Ireland, he was handsomely 
entertained " by both parties, the courtiers and the patri- 
ots." The Irish Parliament being in session, he was, by a 
formal vote, admitted within the bar of the House, as a 
member of the Pennsylvania Assembly. In Scotland, he 
passed some days with Lord Kames and David Hume, and 
received many civilities from Dr. Robertson , Sir Alexander 
Dick, and other distinguished men. At Preston, in Lan- 
cashire, he met, for the first time, his son-in-law, Mr. Rich- 
ard Daclie, by whose deportment and character he was 
agreeably impressed. With his old friend. Dr. Shipley, 
Bishop of St. Asaph, he passed some weeks. Miss Georgi- 
ana Shipley, a daughter of the "good bishop," was subse- 
C|uently one of Franklin's favored correspondents. 

We gather, from his letters to his son about this time, 
that, though well pleased with his residence in England, he 
had a strong inclination to return to America. He writes : 

" Nothing can be more agreeable than my situation, more especially as 
I hope for less embarrassment from the new administration, A general 
respect paid me by the learned — a number of friends and acquaintance 
among them, with whom I have a pleasing intercourse ; a character of so 
much weight, that it has protected me when some in power would have 
done me injury, and continued me in an office they would have deprived 
me of ; my company so much desired, that I seldom dine at home in win- 
ter, and could spend the whole summer in the country-houses of inviting 
friends, if I chose it. Learned and ingenious foreigners that come to Eng- 
land almost all make a point of visiting me (for my reputation is 
still higher abroad than here) ; several of the foreign ambassadors have 
assiduously cultivated my acquaintance, treating me as one of their corps, 
partly, I believe, from the desire they have from time to time of hearing 
something of American affairs, an object become of importance in foreign 
courts, who begin to hope Britain's alarming power will be diminished by 
the defection of her colonies ; and partly, that they may have an oppor- 
tunity of introducing me to the gentlemen of their country who desire it. 
The king, too, has lately been heard to speak of me with regard. These 
are flattering circumstances ; but a violent longing for home sometimes 
seizes me, which I can no otherwise subdue, but by promising myself a 
return next spring, or next autumn, and so forth. As to returning 
hither, if I once go back, I have no thoughts of it. I am too far advanced 
in life to pi'opose three voyages more. I have some important affairs to 
settle at home ; and, considei'ing my double expenses here and there, I 
hardly think my salaries fully compensate the disadvantages. The late 
change, however (of the American minister), being thrown into the bal- 
ance, determines me to stay another winter." 

In the summer of 1769 Franklin was one of a committee 
appointed by the Royal Societv, to consider the best method 

5* 



X 



54 MEMOIR OE BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

of protecting the cathedral of St. Paurs from lightning 
The committee recommended the application of electrical 
conductors, and their report was adopted. In August, 
1772, another committee of the Koyal Society, of which 
Franklin was a member, visited, under the direction of the 
government, the powder magazines at Purfleet, for the pur- 
pose of considering the most effectual means for protecting 
them from lightning. Franhlin drew up a report, which 
was accepted, in which the erection of pointed rods was 
advised. A controversy, of some notoriety in its day, grew 
out of the dissent of one member of this committee, a Mr. 
Wilson, who contended that the conductors ought to be 
blunt, inasmuch as if pointed they would attract the light- 
mng. To this Franklin replied that the attraction was the 
very thing desired, for the charge is thereby silently and 
gradually drawn from the building, and conveyed without 
danger to the earth. Mr. Wilson still clung to his theory 
in regard to blunt conductors, and persuaded the king to 
change his pointed ones for blunt, at Buckingham House. 
One of Franklin's friends (Dr. Ingenhousz, a member of 
the Royal Society) wrote of Wilson's charlatanry in so 
heated a manner, that Franklin wittily remarked: ''He 
seems as much heated about this one j)oint as the Jansen- 
ists and Molinists were about the five." The following 
clever epigram, upon the subject of the king's yielding to 
Wilson's arguments in opposition to Franklin's, appeared 
about this time : 

" Vrhile you, great George, for safety hunt, 
And sharp conductors change for blunt. 

The empire 's out of joint ; 
Franklin a wiser course pursues. 
And all your thunder fearless views, 

By keeping to the point." 

In 1773, while at the summer residence of his friend, 
Lord Le Despencer, Franklin assisted that gentleman in 
preparing an abridgment of the Book of Common Prayer. 
He wrote a Preface, in which he expresses his belief that 
'' this shortened method, or one of the same kind, better 
executed, would further religion, remove animosity, and 
occasion a more frequent attendance on the wor4iip of 
God." The Catechism he abridged by retaining oJ it only 



POLITICAL AND SCIENTIFIC WHITINGS. 5t> 

the two questions, ^' What is jour duty to God 7 "What is 
your duty to your neighbor?" Avith answers. "The 
Psahns," he tells us, "were much contracted by leaving out 
the repetitions (of which I found more than I could have 
imagined) and the imprecations, which appeared not to suit 
well the Christian doctrine of forgiveness of injuries, and 
doing good to enemies. The book was printed for Wilkie, 
in St. Paul's Church-yard, but never much noticed. Some 
were given aw^ay, very fcAV sold, and I suppose the bulk 
became waste paper." 

A fifth edition of Franklin's philosophical writings 
appeared about the same time in London. T^\'0 Prench 
editions had been published in Paris, and a third was now 
issued, the translation of which was executed by his friend, 
Barbeu Dubourg, described by John Adams as "a phji^si- 
cian, a bachelor, a man of letters, and of good character, 
but of little consequence in the Prench world; " "a jolly 
companion, and very fond of anecdotes." 

Besides some philosophical pieces, chiefly on electrical 
subjects, written about this time, Franklin published anony- 
mously his " Rules for Reducing a Great Empire to a Small 
One," and his ''Edict by the King of Prussia." Much 
literary skill is apparent in the construction of these je?fx' 
desprU. Of the first, Lord Mansfield remarked, it was 
"very able and very artful indeed." Of the effect of the 
latter, Franklin gives the following pleasant account, in a 
letter to his son : 

" What made it the more noticed here was, that people, in reading it, 
vrere, as the phrase is, taken in, till they had got half through it, and 
imagined it a real edict, to which mistake I suppose the King of Prussia's 
character must have contributed. I Avas down at Lord Le Despencer's 
when the post brought that day's papers. Mr. Whitehead was there, too 
(Paul Whitehead, tlie author of Manners), who runs early through all 
the papers, and tells the company what he finds remarkable. He had 
tliem in another room, and we were chatting in the breakfast-parlor, when 
he came running in to us, out of breath, with the paper in his hand. 
' Here ! ' says he, ' here 's news for ye ! Here 's the King of Prussia claim- 
ing a right to this kingdom ! ' All stared, and I as much as anybody ; 
and he went on to read it. AVhen he had read two or three paragraphs, a 
gentleman present s;ud, ' Hang his impudence ! I dare say we shall hear 
by next post thnt he is upon his march with one hundred thousand men 
to back this.' Whitehead, who is very shrewd, soon after began to smoke 
it, and looking in my face said, 'I'll be hanged if this in not some of your 
American jokes ujwn us.* The reading went on, and ended with abun- 
dance of laughing, and a general verdict that it was a fair hit : and th« 
piece was cut out of the paper, and preserved in my lord's collection." 



56 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 



VII. 

Early in 1TT4 Franklin was dismissed by the ministry 
from his office of Deputy Postmaster of the Colonies. The 
immediate cause was his agency in communicating to the 
public certain original letters, Avritten in Massachusetts, by 
Governor Hutchinson, Lieutenant-governor Oliver, and 
others, and addressed to Mr. Thomas Whately. a member 
of Parliament. These letters, recommending; coercive meas- 
ures against the Colonists, and intimately aifecting their 
interests, were transmitted by Franklin to Thomas Gushing, 
chairman of the Massachusetts Committee of Correspond- 
ence. In the Colonies they excited the deepest indigna- 
tion towards the writers, and gratitude to Franklin for 
exposing Avhat seemed a course of treachery on the part of 
the Governor and Lieutenant-governor of Massachusetts. 
The House of Representatives agreed on a petition and 
remonstrance to his majesty, in which they charged those 
functionaries with giving private, partial and false informa- 
tion, and prayed for their speedy removal from office. 

In transmitting this correspondence to Mr. Cushing, 
Franklin says : "I am not at liberty to tell through what 
channel I received it ; and I have engaged that it shall not 
be printed, nor copies taken of the whole, or any part of it ; 
but I am allowed to let it be seen by some men of worth in 
the Province, for their satisfaction only. In confidence of 
your preserving inviolably my engagement, I send you 
enclosed the original letters, to obviate every pretence of 
unfairness in copying, interpolation or omission." He 
added a request that they should be returned. Three indi- 
viduals, besides himself, one of whom was Mr. John Temple, 
were aware of their transmission. 

The news being received in England of the publication 
of these letters in Boston, a duel ensued between Mr. Tem- 
ple and Mr. Yfilliam Whately, brother of the deceased 
member of Parliament to whom they had been addressed. 
Mr. Temple had obtained permission to examine certain 
papers in the possession of Mr. William Whately, and the 
latter now charged him with having taken occasion to pro- 
cure these letters. Mr. Whately was wounded, though not 



THE HUTCHIXSON LETTERS. 5( 

dangerously, in the duel ; and Franklin, -who had not antic- 
ipated an J such quarrel, fearing a renewal of the duel, 
addressed an explanation to the Public Advertiser^ in which 
he exonerated Mr. Temple, and took upon himself the 
responsibility of having '' obtained and transmitted to Bos- 
ton the letters in question ; " adding that they were never 
in Mr. Whately's possession. A stupendous clamor was 
hereupon raised against Franklin by the ministerial party. 
Mr. Whateiy, acting, probably, under the ministerial nod, 
though he had been indebted to Franklin for the recovery 
of a considerable property in Pennsylvania, now ^ ' clapped 
a chancery suit on his back," praying the Lord Chancellor 
that Franklin might "be obliged to discover how he came 
by the letters, what number of copies he had printed, and 
to account with him for the profits, &c. &c.," in allusion to 
which Franklin ironically says : " Those as little acquainted 
with law as I was (who, indeed, never before had a lawsuit 
of any kind) may wonder at this as much as I did ; but I 
have now learned that, in chancery practice, though the 
defendant must swear to the truth of every point in his 
answer, the j^laintiff is not put to his oath, or obliged to 
have the least regard to truth, in his bill, hut is allowed to 
lie as much as he jileases. I do not understand this, 
unless it be for the encouragement of business." 

Franklin's answer, upon oath, was : " That the letters in 
question were given to him, and came into his hands, as 
a^xent for the House of Representatives of the Province 
of Massachusetts Bay ; that when given to him he did 
not know to whom they had been addressed. — no address 
appearing upon them, — nor did he know before that any 
such letters existed ; that he had not been for many years 
concerned in printing ; that he did not cause the letters to 
be printed, nor direct the doing it ; that he did not erase 
any address that might have been on the letters ; nor did 
he know that any other person had made such erasure ; 
that he did, as agent to the Province, transmit (as he 
apprehended it his duty to do) the said letters to one of the 
committee, with whom he had been directed to correspond, 
inasmuch as, in his (Franklin's) judgment, they related to 
matters of great public importance to that Province, ai;d 
were put into his hands for that purpose," &;c. 



58 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIK. 

The cliancerj suit, instituted for the purpose of disgrac- 
ing Frankhn, was finally dropped. " You can have do 
conception," he writes to Thomas Gushing, "of the rage 
the ministerial people have been in with me, on account of 
mj transmitting those letters." Their vindictiveness was 
somewhat abated by Wedderburn's scurrilous attack upon 
him, at the hearing before the Privy Council, to which body 
the king had referred the petition against Hutchinson and 
Oliver. This hearing had been fixed for January 11, 1774, 
"at the Cockpit," — name ominous of the quality of that 
vituperation with which Wedderburn, the King's Solicitor, 
was charged. At the appointed time Franklin appeared, 
and then for the first time learned that Wedderburn was 
present as counsel for Hutchinson and Oliver. Franklin 
remarked that, as he had supposed the cjuestion to be rather 
one "of civil and political prudence" than one involving 
any point of law or right, he had omitted to engage counsel 
in behalf of the petition ; but he now requested that he 
might employ counsel. To this the Chief Justice assented, 
and the hearing was deferred three weeks. 

Meanwhile the grossest abuse was launched at Franklin. 
Hints were even thrown out that there were some thoughts 
of apprehending him, seizing his papers, and sending him to 
Newgate. Confident that " time vf ould soon lay the dust 
which prejudice and party had raised," he gave himself 
little concern. He engaged for the Assembly's counsel the 
celebrated John Dunning and Mr. John Lee. The scene 
before the Privy Council, at the next consideration of the 
petition, is thus described by Franklin : 

" Notwithstanding the intimations I had received. I could 
not believe that the Solicitor-General would be permitted 
to vrander from the Cjuestion before their lordships, into a 
new case, the accusation of another person for another mat- 
ter, not cognizable before them, who could not expect to be 
there so accused, and therefore could not be prepared for 
his defence. And yet all this happened, and in all proba- 
bility was preconcerted ; for all the courtiers were invited, 
as to an entertainmxcnt, and there never was such an appear- 
ance of privy counsellors on any occasion, — not less than 
thirty-five, besides an immense crowd of other auditors. 

" The hearing began by reading my letter to Lord Dart- 



WEDDERBURN'S scurrilous ATTACxv. 59 

moutli enclosing the petition, then the petition itself, the 
resolves, and lastly the letters, the Solicitor-general making 
no objections, nor asking any of the questions he had talked 
of at the preceding board. Our counsel then opened the 
matter, upon their general plan, and acquitted themselves 
very handsomely ; only Mr. Dunning, having a disorder on 
his lungs, that weakened his voice exceedingly, was not so 
perfectly heard as one could have wished. The Solicitor- 
general then went into what he called a history of the prov- 
ince for the last ten years, and bestowed plenty of abuse 
upon it, mingled with encomium on the Governors. But the 
favorite part of his discourse was levelled at your agent, 
who stood there the butt of his invective ribaldry foi* near 
an hour, not a single lord adverting to the impropriety and 
indecency of treating a public messenger in so ignominious 
a manner, who was present only as the person delivering 
your petition, with the consideration of which no part of 
/lis conduct had any concern. If he had done a wrong in 
obtaining and transmitting the letters, that was not the tri- 
bunal where he was to be accused and tried. The cause 
was already before the Chancellor. Not one of their lord- 
ships checked and recalled the orator to the business before 
them, but, on the contrary, a very few excepted, they 
seemed to enjoy highly the entertainment, and frequently 
burst out in loud applauses. This part of his speech was 
-thought so good, that they have since printed it, in order to 
defame me everywhere, and particularly to destroy my rep- 
utation on your side of the water ; but the grosser parts of 
the abuse are omitted, appearing, I suppose, in their own 
eyes, too foul to be seen on paper ; so that the speech, com- 
pared to what it was, is now perfectly decent. I send you 
one of the copies. My friends advise me to write an answer, 
which I purpose immediately. The reply of Mr. Dunning 
concluded. Being very ill, and much incommoded by 
standins: so lono;, his voice was so feeble as to be scarce 

O CD' 

audible. What little I heard was very well said, but 
appeared to have little effect. 

" Their Lordships' report, which I send you, is dated the 
same day. It contains a severe censure, as you will see, on 
the petition and the petitioners, and, as I think, a very 
unfair conclusion, from my silence, that the charge of sur- 



60 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN ERANKLIN. 

reptitiouslj obtaining the letters Avas a true one ; tliough 
tlie Solicitor, as appears in the printed speech, had acquainted 
them that that matter was before the Chancellor ; and my 
counsel had stated the impropriety of my answering there to 
charges then trying in another court. In truth, I came by 
them honorably, and my intention in sending them was vir- 
tuous, if an endeavor to lessen the breach between two states 
of the same empire be such, by showing tliat the injuries 
complained of by one of them did not proceed from the 
other, but from traitors among themselves." 

It should be remembered that these letters, which Wed- 
derburn represented as "private and confidential," were 
addressed by public officers to a public officer, with the 
view of affecting public measures, and producing (to use 
Hutchinson's own words) "an abridgment of English lib- 
erties in the Colonies." 

Wedderburn, with his facile assumption of indignation, 
instead of defending the defendants, entered upon a bitter 
and carefully-prepared invective against Franklin. "The 
letters," said the adroit laAvyer, "could not have come to 
Dr. Franklin by fair means." " I hope, my lords, you will 
mark and brand the man, for the honor of this country, of 
Europe, and of mankind." "He has forfeited all the 
respect of societies and of men. Into Avhat companies will 
he hereafter go with an unembarrassed face, or the honest 
intrepidity of virtue ? Men will watch him "with a jealous 
eye ; they wdll hide their papers from him, and lock up 
their escritoires. He will henceforth esteem it a libel to be 
called a man of letters, homo tr'ium. Uteranim.^^* "Amidst 
these tragical events, of one person nearly murdered, of 
another answerable for the issue, — of a worthy governor hurt 
in his dearest interests, the fate of America in suspense, — 
here is a man, wdio, wdth the utmost insensibility of remorse, 
stands up and avows himself the author of all. I can com- 
pare it only to Zanga in Dr. Young's Revenge : 

' Know, then, 't was I ; 
I forged the letter — I disposed the picture — 
I hated — I despised — and I destroy.' " 

* That is,tlie word fiir (or thief). 



DISMISSED FROM HIS OFFICE. 61 

Such was tlie clever clap-trap, gravely substituted for 
rational argument, uttered before a body of men assembled 
to consider the application of a provincial legislature for a 
change of local rulers ! Franklin's dem.eanor, during this 
indecent invective, was calm and dignified. Dr. Priestly, 
who was present with Edmund Burke, says that ' ' the real 
object of the court was to insult Dr. Franklin ; " but that 
he stood "without the least apparent emotion" during the 
whole of Wedderburn's ribald attack. The lords of the 
council seemed to enjoy it highly, however. All of them, 
with the exception of Lord North, " frequently laughed out- 
right " at the abuse heaped' upon the venerable sage, tlien 
in his sixty-ninth year, whose life had been so largely 
devoted to the advancement of the interests of humanity. 
He had been the zealous and vigilant champion of the polit- 
ical rights of the Colonists ; and this their lordshi})S could 
not forgive. He had msisted upon his countrymen's partic- 
ipation in all the rights of Englishmen ; and this their lord- 
ships were not disposed to allow. He had vindicated the 
character and courage of Americans ; and it was the ton 
among the "hereditary legislators " of England to speak of 
them as a cowardly and inferior race. It was not, there- 
fore, a matter of surprise to anybody, that the decision at 
which their lordships ari^ived was adverse to the Assembly 
and to Franklin. The Assembly's petition was pronounced 
"groundless, vexatious and scandalous," "founded upon 
resolutions formed on false and erroneous allegations," and 
"calculated only for the seditious purpose of keeping up a 
spirit of clamor and discontent " in the Province. As for 
Franklin, he was the next day dismissed from his office of 
Deputy Postmaster for the Colonies. Their lordships Avere 
resolved that no effort on their part should be wanting to 
"mark and brand" him as Wedderburn had recommended. 
The British press sedulously lent its aid, and public opinion 
was so generally prejudiced against him, that David Hume, 
with whom he had lodged in Edinburgh, on the most 
friendly terms, wrote, under date of February 3, 1774, to a 
correspondent : " Pray what strange accounts are these we 
hear of Franklin's conduct 7 I am very slow in believing 
that he has been guilty in the extreme degree that is pre- 
tended ; though I always knew him to he a very factious 
6 



62 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN ERANKLIN. 

man. — and a faction, next to fanaticism, is of all passions 
the most destructive of morality. How is it lie got posses- 
sion of these letters ? I hear that Wedderburn's treatment 
of him before the Council was most cruel, vnthont being in 
iJte least degree blamable.^^ In spite of Hume's amateur 
republicanism, he seems to have found it difficult, in his 
imagination, to reconcile a person's opposition to the minis- 
try with freedom from fictions motives. 

Through this storm of obloquy and detraction, Franklin 
bore himself with the tranquillity of a philosopher and the 
moderation of a Christian. " I made," he says, " no justi- 
fication of myself from the charges brought against me. I 
made no return of the injury, by abusing my adversaries, 
but held a cool, sullen silence, reserving myself to some 
future opportunity ; for which conduct I had several rea- 
sons, not necessary here to specify." " As I grow old, I 
grow less concerned about censure, when I am satisfied that 
I act rightly." He was content to bide his time, confi- 
dently though not vindictively. He never divulged the 
mode in which he came into possession of the letters which 
were made the subject of so much controversy ; but that he 
came by them honorably we have his own ample assurance, 
fortified by concurrent circumstances. He lived to see the 
parties Avho had exulted in the temporary obscuration of his 
reputation suing for his influence to avert the consequences 
which he had long predicted as the result of ministerial arro- 
gance and infatuation. In less than a year after the scene at 
the Council Board, Lord Howe appealed to his magnanimity 
not to consider his ill treatment by the ministry ; that 
' ' some of them were ashamed of it, and sorry it had hap- 
pened; which he supposed must be sufficient to abate 
resentment in a great and generous mind.''^^ 

* In a letter to Dr. Hosack, John Adams states that Sir John Temple 
told him, in Holland, that he had furnished the Hutchinson and Oliver 
letters to Dr. Franklin. Mr. Adams adds, however, his belief that they 
"were delivered through the hands of a third person, a member of Parlia- 
ment. This is consistent with Franklin's own account. 



PETITION OF CONGRESS REJECTED. 63 



YIII. 

Franklin, if he did not originally suggest the plan of a 
Continental Congress, was among its earliest approvers. In 
a letter, dated July 7, 1773. to Thomas Cushing, of Massa- 
chusetts, he says: "It is natural to suppose, as you do. 
that, if the oppressions continue, a Congress may grow out 
of that correspondence, Nothing could more alarm our 
ministers ; but, if the Colonies agree to hold a Congress, I 
do not see how it can be prevented." In a letter of the 
same date, to be I'ead to the Assembly, he says : " Perhaps 
it would be best and fairest for the Colonies, in a general 
Congress, now in peace to be assembled, or by means of the 
correspondence lately proposed, after a full and solemn 
assertion and declaration of their rights, to engage firmly 
with each other, that they will never grant aids to the crown, 
in any general war, till those rights are recognized by the 
kinoj and both houses of Parliament ; communicatino- at 
the same time to the crown this their resolution. Such a 
step, I imagine, will bring the dispute to a crisis." From 
these passages it would seem that the scheme had been 
already agitated. It grew naturally out of the exigences 
of the times, and probably no Province or individual can 
rightly claim the merit of its origin. 

The First Continental Congress assembled at Philadelphia, 
September 17, 1774. In December following, their petition 
to the kino; was forwarded under cover to Franklin. It 
was transferred by the king to Parliament, by which body 
it was contemptuously rejected. It was the last tender of 
the olive-branch, and it was spurned. Franklin now began 
to think of returning; to America. He was regarded with a 
good deal of distrust by the ministry, who, it was privately 
intimated to him, entertained some thou2;lits of arrestino; 
him as a fomenter of rebellion in the Colonies. A coalition 
on the American question being talked of among the ojDpo- 
sition in Parliament to the ministry, he endeavored to pro- 
mote it, and, in conversation with members of the minority 
in both Houses, he "besought and. conjured them most 
earnestly not to suffer, by their little misunderstandings, 
so glorious a fabric as the present British empire to be 



64 MEMOIR OP BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

demolisliod bj these blunderers." But the "blunderers'' 
blundered on, although some eloquent voices were raised in 
Parliament to deter them ; among others, that of Lord 
Chatham, whose intrepid words, " I rejoice that America 
has resisted," though they elicited a cry of horror from the 
ministerial benches, thrilled like a trumpet- note through the 
hearts of the Colonists. 

Franklin had long admired Lord Chatham at a distance. 
Circumstances now brought them together, and their inter- 
course was throughout of a character honorable to both par- 
ties. His lordship's noble vindication of Franklin from the 
aspersions of Lord Sandwich in the House of Lords is a 
tribute that outweighs all the abuse ever lavished upon the 
American sage by the supporters of the ministry. Frank- 
lin's own account of his acquaintance with Lord Chatham 
will be found in another part of this volume. 

An aspersion upon his personal truthfulness is contained 
in Lord Mahon's recent History of England, based upon an 
apparent discrepancy in Franklin's assurance to Lord Chat- 
ham that " America did not aim at independence," and the 
statement of Josiah Quincy, Jr., that Franklin's ideas AA^ere 
" extended upon the broad scale of total emancipation."^ 
A little attention to dates would have satisfied his lordship, 
in spite of his strong tory bias, of the rank injustice of his 
charge against Franklin of playing "a double game." 
Franklin's assurance to Lord Chatham was oriven in Auo-ust 

CD 

1774, and was unquestionably sincere. The letter of 
Josiah Quincy, Jr., containing the expression quoted to 
give countenance to the imputation of duplicity, bears date 
November 24, 1774. During the interval between these 
two dates, the probabilities of a reconciliation between Great 
Britain and the Colonies had greatly diminished. A gen- 
eral election had taken place, Avhich had given Lord North 
and his colleagues an overwhelming majority in Parliament. 
Hopes of redress from that quarter were therefore at an 
end. Franklin began to see that a contest was inevitable, 

* Under date of London, November 24, 1784, Josiah Quincy, Jr., wrote 
home to Boston : " Dr. Franklin is an American in heart and soul. You 
may trust him ; his ideas are not contracted within the narrow limits of 
exemption from taxes, but are extended upon the broad scale of total 
emincipation." 



ATTEMPTS AT A RECONCILIATION. Q5 

and that ''total emancipation " must now be the object of 
the Colonists. If he had entertained contrary views a few 
months before, he entertained them in common with Wash- 
ington, John Adams, Jaj, JeiFerson. Madison, and other 
foremost men of the Revolution. The attempt of Lord 
Mahon to show that there was any prevarication in his 
course is confuted by notorious facts. 

Several negotiations were set on foot by agents of the 
ministry to secure the good offices of Franklin to bring 
about a settlement w^ith the Colonies. To this end, his 
friend Dr. Fothergill and David Barclay interceded with 
him. At their request he drew up a plan, in the shape of 
hints for conversation, seventeen in number, as the terms to 
which the Colonists w^ould probably assent. This paper 
was communicated by Mr. Barclay to Lord Hyde, and by 
Dr. Fothergill to Lord Dartmouth. Lord Hyde thought 
the propositions too hard. Lord Dartmouth, while he 
admitted that some of them were reasonable, regarded others 
as inadmissible or impracticable. The Speaker of the House 
of Commons thought it would be very humiliating to Britain 
to be obliged to submit to such terms. 

At the request of Lord Howe, who, with ex-Governor 
Pownall, aspired to the appointment of Commissioner to 
America to settle difficulties, and who hoped to take Frank- 
lin with him, the latter sketched another plan : but this, too, 
involved concessions which the ministry were not ready to 
allow. Several attempts were made to renew these informal 
negotiations It was evidently supposed that Franklin, 
though he disclaimed all authority to act, was well aware 
of the terms that Congress Avould accept. Any concessions 
Avhich he might make were relied upon as certain to be 
obtained; but the ministry were rapacious, and he was 
unj'-ielding. After repeated interviews with Mr. Barclay 
and Dr. Fothergill, Lord Howe and Lord Hyde, for the 
purpose of devising some plan of settlement, the attempt 
was abandoned. 

One of the manoeuvres resorted to by friends of the min- 
istry to bring about a private intercourse with Franklin is 
thus described by him : 

"The new Parliament was to meet the 29th of November (1774). 
About the beginning of that month, being at the Royal Society, Mr. Raper, 
6* 



66 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

one of our members, told me there was a certain lady Avho had a desire of 
playing 'with me at chess, fancying she could beat me, and had requested 
him to bring me to her. It ■was, he said, a lady with whose acquaintance 
he was sure I should be pleased, — a sister of Lord Howe's, — and he hoped 
I would not refuse the challenge. I said I had been long out of practice, 
but would Avait upon the lady when he and she should think fit. He told 
me where her house was, and would have me call soon, and without fur- 
ther introduction, which I undertook to do ; but thinking it a little awk- 
ward, I postponed it, and on the 30th, meeting him again at the feast of 
the society election, being the day after the Parliament met, he put me in 
mind of my promise, and that I had not kept it, and would have me name 
a day, when he said he would call for me and conduct me. I named the 
Friday following. He called accordingly. I went with him, played a few 
games with the lady, whom I found of very sensible conversation and 
pleasing behavior, which induced me to agree most readily to an appoint- 
ment for another meeting a few days afterwards, — though I had not the 
least apprehension that any political business could have any connection 
with this new acquaintance." 

On the evening appointed, Franklin attended liis " second 
chess party witli the agreeable Mrs. Howe."' 

" After playing as long as we liked, we fell into a little chat, partly on 
a mathematical problem, and partly about the new Parliament, then just 
met, when she said, ' And what is to be done with this dispute between 
Great Britain and the Colonies ? I hope we are not to have a civil war.' 
'They should kiss and be friends,' said I; 'what can they do better? 
Quarrelling can be of service to neither, but is ruin to both.' 'I have 
often said,' replied she, ' that I wished government would employ you to 
settle the dispute for them ; I am sure nobody could do it so well. Do not 
you think that the thing is practicable ? ' ' Undoubtedly, madam, if the 
parties are disposed to reconciliation ; for the two countries have really no 
clashing interests to differ about. It is rather a matter of punctilio, 
which two or three reasonable people might settle in half an hour. I 
thank you for the good opinion you are pleased to express of me ; but the 
ministers will never think of employing me in that good work ; they 
choose rather to abuse me.' 'Ay,' said she, ' they have behaved shame- 
fully to you. And, indeed, some of them are now ashamed of it them- 
selves. ' ' ' 

Franklin looked upon this, at the time, as an accidental 
conversation : but it was the prelude to informal negotia- 
tions, to which members of the ministry w^ere a party behind 
the curtain. It led to his acquaintance with Lord Howe, 
who assured him that " there was a sincere disposition in 
Lord North and Lord Dartmouth to accommodate the dif- 
ferences with America, and to listen favorably to any prop- 
ositions that might have a probable tendency to answer th;it 
salutary purpose." He then asked Frankhn's opinion iii 
regard to sending over a Commissioner to inquire into griev- 



OVERTURES DECLINED. 67 

ances and compose differences. "I -wish, brother," said 
Mrs. Howe, "you were to be sent thither on such a service ; 
I should like that much better than General Howe's goin'3- 
to command the army there." "I think, madam," said 
Franklin, " they ought to provide for General Howe some 
more honorable employment." 

Overtures were made to Franklin, in the hope of findino- 
some accessible point on the side of his ambition or self- 
interest, -where a breach could be effected, through which 
ministerial favors might be thrust, in anticipation of influ- 
ence exerted by him in the desired direction. In the con- 
versations betvreen him and Mr. Barclay, the latter hinted 
that from Franklin's cooperation in promoting a settlement 
with the Colonists he might expect "not only the restora- 
tion of his old place, but almost any other he could wish 
for;" upon which Franklin, writing to his son, remarks : 
" I need not tell you, who know me so well, how improper 
and disgusting this language was to ??ie." He replied 
to Mr. Barclay: "The ministry, lam sure, would rather 
give me a place in a cart to Tyburn than any other place 
whatever." 

Lord Howe, also, threw^ out lures, though in a more 
guarded and delicate manner. After remarking that " he 
was thouo'ht of to be sent Commissioner for settlino- the dif- 

o o 

ferences in Am.erica," in which event he hoped to take 
Franklin with him, giving him a "generous and ample" 
appointment, he asked, " in order that the ministry might 
have an opportunity of showing their good disposition" to 
Franklin, that the latter would give him leave to procure 
the payment of the arrears of his salary as agent for New 
England. "My lord," said Franklin, " I shall deem it a 
great honor to be in any shape joined with your lordship in 
so good a woik : but. if you hope service from any influence 
I may be supposed to have, drop all thoughts of procuring 
me any previous favors from ministers ; my accepting them 
would destroy the very influence you propose to make use 
of; they would be considered as so many bribes to betray 
tlie interest of my country." On another occasion, Lord 
How^e, in alluding to the contingency of Franklin's lendimi 
his services to the ministry to biing about a settlement, 
remarked to him, that he should not think of influenciu'i 



08 MEMOIR OF BEJfJAMIN FRANKLIX. 

liim bj any selfish motive, but certainly lie (Franklin) 
might, with reason, expect " any reward in the power of 
government to bestow." "This to me," says Franklin, 
" was what the French vulgarly call spitting in the soup." 



IX. 

A FTER prolonging his stay in England to await the result 
of the Continental Congress, Franklin made his prepara- 
tions for returning home. Happening to be at the House 
of Lords to hear Lord Camden on American affairs, he was 
"much disgusted" by many "base reflections," from the 
ministerial side, "on American courage, religion, under- 
standing, &c., in which we were treated with the utmost 
contempt as the lowest of mankind, and almost of a different 
species from the English of Britain;" some of the lords 
asserting "'that we were all knaves, and wanted only by 
this dispute to avoid paying our debts." Under the excite- 
ment occasioned by hearing these aspersions on his country, 
he wrote a Memorial, which he gave to his friend Mr. 
Thomas Walpole, a member of the House of Commons. 
Walpole looked at him as if he apprehended he were a little 
out of his senses, and, after taking the Memorial to show to 
Lord Camdeh, he returned it to Franklin, with the remark 
that it "might be attended with dangerous consequences to 
his person, and contribute to exasperate the nation." 

Before leavino; Eno;land, Franklin received news of the 
death of his wife, Deborah Franklin, which took place at 
Philadelphia, December 19, 1774. Their relations to each 
other appear to have been thoroughly affectionate. From 
his letters to her it would seem that Avhile abroad he was 
continually sending little presents for her use and gratifica- 
tion. He generally addresses her as "my dear child," or 
" m^y dear love," and she sometimes responds in the same 
terms. In a letter dated London, 6 January, 1773, he 
writes : " My Dear Child : I feel some regard for this sixth 
of January, as my old nominal birthday, though the change 
of style has carried the real day forward to the seventeenth, 
when I shall be, if I live till then, sixty-seven years of age. 
It seems but the other day since you and I were ranked 



RETURN TO AMERICA. 69 

among the boys and girls, so swiftly does time fly ! We 
have, however, great reason to be thankful that so much of 
our lives has passed so happily, and that so great a share ' 
of health and strength remains as to render life yet com- 
fortable." " ! my child," writes Mrs. Franklin to her 
husband, "there is a great odds between a man's beino; at 
home and abroad ; as everybody is afraid they shall do 
wrong, so everything is left undone." In a letter, some 
years afterwards, to a young female friend. Franklin writes : 
"Frugality is an enriching virtue; a virtue I never could 
acquire myself; but I was once lucky enough to find it in 
a wife, who thereby became a fortune to me." 

Franklin had now two children left to him ; his son, Y\il- 
liam, estranged by political differences, and his daughter, 
Sarah, married to Mr. Bache. A second son, Francis Fol- 
ger, died when four years old. The recollection of him 
always seemed to touch a tender spot in Franklin's heart. 
"Though now dead thirty-six years," he writes, "to this 
day I cannot think of him without a sigh." 

Leaving directions with Mrs. Stevenson to deliver to 
Arthur Lee, the newly-appointed agent for Massachusetts, 
all the papers relating to that province, Franklin sailed for 
Philadelphia the 21st of March, 1775, and arrived there on 
the 5th of May. During the voyage, he occupied himself 
in writing out a full account of his political negotiations in 
London. The Aveather was all the while so moderate " that 
a London wherry might have accompanied us all the w^ay." 
He made some experiments with a thermometer in crossing 
the Gulf Stream, which afforded a valuable hint to naviga- 
tors for discovering, by the temperature of the water, when 
they were in the Stream. 

The scenes of Lexington and Concord had transpired, and 
the Second Continental Consiress was in session. " I got 
home in the evening," writes Franklin to Dr. Priestley, 
' ' and the next morning was unanimously chosen by the 
Assembly of Pennsylvania a delegate." To the same friend, 
a few weeks after, alludino; to the action of Congress, he 
wrote; " It has been with difficulty that w^e have carried 
another humble petition to the crown, to give Britain otie 
more chance — one opportunity more — of recovering the 
friendship of the Colonies ; which, h©wever, I think she has 



70 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLII?. 

not sense cnongli to embrace, so I conclude she has lost 
them forever." In the same letter he says: " My time 
was never more fully employed. In the morning, at six, I 
am at the Committee of Safety, appointed by the Assembly 
to put the Province in a state of defence, which committee 
holds till near nine, when I am at the Congress, and that 
sits till after four in the afternoon." 

On the 26th of May, 1775, the committee of the whole 
reported, and Congress resolved that hostilities had been 
commenced by Great Britain ; and it was voted that the 
Colonies ought to be put in a posture of defence. The 
"humble petition" — the " one more chance" — to which 
Franklin alludes was the petition to the king carried by 
John Dickinson, and others of the moderate party, against 
the views of John Adams and others, who thought that the 
time for "humble petitions" had gone by. The first sketch 
of a plan of confederation ever presented to Congress is due 
to Franklin, who brought it forward the 21st of July, 1775. 
It practically involved independence, but differed in many 
particulars from the plan ultimately adopted. The name 
which he proposed for the confederacy was " The United 
Colonies of North America." About this time Congress 
established a post-office system of its own, and appointed 
Franklin Postmaster General. 

On all the most important committees, public or secret, 
formed by Congress, Franklin was placed, and he entered 
into the duties of them with all the buoyancy and activity 
of youth. As chairman of the Committee of Safety, he pro- 
jected the chevaux-de-frise in the Delaware, for the pro- 
tection of Philadelphia, then the residence of Congress. 
When the Continental paper-money system was under dis- 
cussion, he recommended that the bills should bear interest; 
and it was a matter of regret, when too late, that his advice 
had not been adopted. In October, 1775, Franklin was one 
of a committee appointed by Congress to consult with Wash- 
ington at his head-quarters at Cambridge, near Boston, in 
relation to a new organization of the army. General Greene 
writes, October 16, 1775: "The committee of Congress 
arrived last evening, and I had the honor to be introducea 
to that very great man, Doctor Franklin, whom I viewed 



DRAFTING THE DECLARATION. 71 

with silent admiration durins; the whole evenino;. Atten- 
tion watched his lips, and conviction closed his periods.'' 

Besides serving in Congress, Franklin, at this period, 
represented the city of Philadelphia in the Pennsylvania 
Assemhly, and was at the same time a member of the Con- 
gress Committees of Safety and of Secret Correspondence. 
Early in 1776, he was appointed, with Samuel Chase and 
Charles Carroll, a commissioner to Canada to obtain the 
cooperation of the inhabitants. He was nearly a month in 
accomplishing the journey to Montreal, and suffered con- 
siderably in his health, from the hardships of the route. 
It was not till June that he got back to Philadelphia. 
Having resigned his places in the Assembly and the Com- 
mittee of Safety, he now devoted himself to the important 
business before Congress, and was appointed one of a com- 
mittee of five, includino; Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, 
Roger Sherman and Robert R. Livingston, to prepare a 
Declaration of Independence. The original draft, by Jef- 
ferson, of this momentous document, contains interlineations 
in the handwriting of Franklin. The Declaration was 
finally adopted by Congress the fourth of July, 177G. It 
is related that vv'hen Franklin and others were signing their 
names to this immortal document. John Hancock remarked, 
" We must be unanimous, — we must all hang together ; " 
to which Franklin replied, ''Yes, if we would not hang 
separately." 

A characteristic anecdote is related by Jefferson. Allud- 
ino; to the mutilations made in his draft of the Declaration 
in committee of the whole, he says: "I was sitting by 
Dr. Franklin, who perceived that I was not insensible to 
these mutilations. ' I have made it a rule,' said he, ' when- 
ever in my power, to avoid becoming the draftsman of papers 
to be reviewed by a public body. I took mj lesson from 
an incident Avhich I will relate to you. When I was a 
journeyman-printer, one of my companions, an apprentice- 
hatter, having served out his time, was about to open shop 
for himself. His first concern was to have a handsome 
sign-board, with a proper inscription. He composed it in 
these words : John Thompson. hatlei\ makes and sells 
hats for ready money, with a figure of a hat subjoined. 
But he thought he would submit it to his friends for their 



72 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

amendments. The first he showed it to thought the word 
hatter tautologous, because followed by the words makes 
hats^ which showed he was a hatter. It was struck out. 
The next observed that the word makes might as well be 
omitted, because his customers would not care who made 
the hats ; if good and to their mind, they would buy, by 
whomsoever made. He struck it out. A third said he 
thought the words /or ready 'money were useless, as it was 
not the custom of the place to sell on credit. Every one 
who purchased expected to pay. They were parted with, 
and the inscription now stood : John Thompson sells hats. 
'■'•Sells hats? '' says his next friend; "why, nobody will expect 
you to give them away. What, then, is the use of that 
word? " It was stricken out, and hats followed, the rather 
as there was one painted on the board. So his inscription 
was reduced, ultimately, to John Thompson^ with the 
figure of a hat subjoined.' " 

Franklin was president of the Pennsylvania convention 
for forming a constitution ; but he was unable to give that 
time to its deliberations which was desirable. By the 
instrument finally adopted, religious toleration was partially 
secured, and the right of sufirage extended. His hand may 
be recognized in the feature of a single Legislative Assembly, 
by which he thought the process of legislation would be 
simplified and accelerated. He used to illustrate the incon- 
veniences of a double chamber by comparing them to those 
of a double-headed snake, who would be in an unpleasant 
dilemma, if it should be travelling among bushes, and one 
head should choose to go on one side of the stem of a bush, 
and the other head should prefer the other side, and neither 
of the heads would consent to come back, or give way. 
This theory of a single chamber was abandoned by Penn- 
sylvania, and is not now incorporated in any one of our 
state constitutions. But it found favor in France, where it 
was adopted in the National Assemblies which sprang from 
the revolutions of 1789 and 1848. 

The plan of a confederation being before Congress, Frank- 
lin was a strenuous opponent of the proposition for giving 
states an equal vote, without regard to their population. 
He contended that the article allotting one vote to the small- 
est state, and no more to the largest, was unjust and injuri- 



VISIT TO LORD HOA\E. 73 

ous. As president of the Pennsylvania convention, he 
drew up a Protest on this subject, but forebore to urge it, 
in consideration of the state of the country. 

Early in 1776 the British Parliament passed a somewhat 
incongruous act, one provision of which was to "prohibit 
and restrain" the trade of the '-refractory Colonies," and 
the other to enable persons appointed by the king to grant 
pardons. With a view to the latter object. Lord Howe, 
who was at the head of the British fleet in North America, 
was in May appointed joint com^missioner with his brother, 
General William Howe. Lord Howe wrote a private letter 
to Franklin, which the latter answered. '•' Your lordship," 
he wrote, " may possibly remember the tears of joy that 
wet my cheek, when, at your good sister's in London, you 
once gave me expectations that a reconciliation might soon 
take place." After the battle of Long Island, Lord HoAve 
expressed to General Sullivan, who had been taken prisoner 
and liberated on parole, a desire to confer with a delegation 
from Congress. That body accordingly appointed Benjamin 
Franklin, John Adams and Edward Rutledge, a committee 
of conference. They met Lord Howe at Staten Island, 
opposite Amboy, within the British lines. His lordship 
received and entertained them politely, but acquainted them 
that he could not treat witli them as a committee of Con- 
gress, although his powers enabled him to consult with them 
as private gentlemen of influence in the Colonies. Finding, 
however, that no accommodation was likely to take place, he 
put an end to the conference, and the committee returned 
and reported the result to Congress. This conference with 
Lord Howe took place September 11, 1776. John Adams 
lias left an amusing account of the journey of the committee 
from Philadelphia to Staten Island. 

'• The taverns," he says, '"were so full, we could with 
difiiculty obtain entertainment. At Brunswick but one bed 
could be procured for Dr. Franklin and me, in a chamber 
little larger than the bed, without a chimney, and with only 
one small window. The window was open, and I, who was 
an invalid and afraid of the air in the night, shut it close. 
' ! ' says Franklin, ' don't shut the window, — we shall be 
sufibcated.' I answered I was afraid of the evening air. 
Dr. Franklin replied, ' The air within this chamber will 
7 



74 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

soon be, and indeed is now, worse than tliat withi^iit doors. 
Come, open the window and come to bed, and I will con- 
vince you. I believe you are not acquainted with my the- 
ory of colds.' Opening the window and leaping into bed, I 
said I had read his letters to Dr. Cooper, in which he had 
advanced that nobody ever got cold by going into a cold 
church or any other cold air, but the theory was so little 
consistent with my experience, that I thought it a paradox. 
However, I had so much curiosity to hear his reasons, that I 
would run the risk of a cold. The Doctor then began a 
harangue upon air and cold, and respiration and perspira- 
tion, with wliich I was so much amused that I soon fell 
asleep, and left him and his philosophy together ; but I 
believe they were equally sound and insensible within a few 
minutes after me, for the last words I heard were pro- 
nounced as if he was more than half asleep. I remember 
little of the lecture, except that the human body, by respir- 
ation and perspiration, destroys a gallon of air in a minute ; 
that two such persons as were now in that chamber would 
consume all the air in it in an hour or two ; that by breath- 
ing over again the matter thrown off by the lungs and the 
skin we should imbibe the real cause of colds, not from 
abroad, but from within." 

In December, 1775, Franklin, as one of the Committee 
of Secret Correspondence, had written to his friends abroad, 
and particularly to M. Dumas, in Holland, requesting 
information as to whether any of the European courts w^ere 
disposed to afford assistance to the American Colonies in 
their struggle for independence. It being decided to make 
an application to France for aid, three commissioners — 
namely, Benjamin Franklin, Silas Deane and Arthur Lee 
— were appointed by Congress to negotiate with that power. 
Two of the commissioners were already in Europe. Frank- 
lin, accompanied by his two grandsons, William Temple 
Franklin and Benjamin Franklin Bache, left Philadelphia 
October 26, 1776, proceeded to Marcus Hook, and, the next 
day, embarked in the United States sloop-of-war Reprisal, 
mounting sixteen guns, and commanded by Captain Wickes. 
The sloop was chased several times by British cruisers, but, 
though prepared for action, the captain obeyed orders, and 
shunned an engagement. When near the coast of France, 



MISSION TO FRANCE. 75 

however, he seized two British vessels, with cargoes, one 
from Bordeaux, and tlie other from Rochefort. Early on 
the morning of November 28th, he came in sight of Belle- 
isle, and, having taken a pilot, he ran the sloop the next 
day into Quiberon Bay, where she continued till December 
3d. The winds beino; ao-ainst her enterino; the Loire, 
Franklin and his grandsons w^ent on board a fishing-boat, 
which had come along-side, and were put on shore at Auray, 
so that they did not reach Nantes till December 7th. Here 
they stayed eight days, being feted and treated with the 
utmost distinction. No announcement of Franklin's coming 
had reached France : nor was it known in Europe that Con- 
gress had decided on any application for aid. But it was 
now generally surmised that he was present on some official 
errand, and he found himself none the less welcome on that 
account. It was the 21st of December, 1776, when he 
arrived in Paris. Here he found his colleaa;ues, Messrs. 
Deane and Lee. On the 1st of January following, Con- 
gress directed Franklin to proceed to Spain, there to 
transact such business as might be intrusted to l\im. This 
mission he declined, and it was arranged among the com- 
missioners that Mr. Lee should undertake it. 



The diplomatic career of Franklin in France extends 
over a period of nearly nine years. He had made two pre- 
vious visits to Paris, in 1767 and 1769. His reputation in 
that metropolis at those periods had been great, — greater 
than it was either in England or America ; but it was now 
matured by the lapse of time, and he was received with a 
degree of distinction rarely accorded to any foreigner. 
After remaining a week or two in Paris, he established 
himself at Passy, a village about three miles from the cen- 
tral part of the city. He took up his abode in a large and 
handsome house, belonging, with its extensive garden, to 
M. Le Rav de Chaumont. Li rec!i;ard to the rent, John 
.Adams wrote, some months afterwards, that he never could 
discover it; " but." he adds, " from the magnificence of the 
place, it was universally suspected to be enormously high." 



76 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

It appeared, however, as he himself confessed, that there 
•was much exaggeration in this suspicion. The owner of 
the estate, a stanch friend of America, was content to have 
Franklin occupy his house on very moderate terms, and, 
after our revolution, to receive his pay from our government 
in grants of the public land. 

Franklin's prompt attention was given to the great object 
of his mission. Previous to his arrival, the French court, 
which was not yet prepared for an open breach with Eng- 
land, had secretly advanced, through M. Beaumarchais, the 
celebrated dramatist, about two hundred thousand dollars 
for the remission of arms and military stores to America, it 
being arranged that Congress should send tobacco and other 
produce in return. The three American commissioners 
were received in their private capacity very kindly by Yer- 
gennes, minister for foreign affairs ; but it was thought 
advisable to defer, for the present, any open recognition of 
their diplomatic character. It was arranged, however, that 
they should receive, ostensibly from a private source, though 
really from the king's treasury, for the use of Congress, a 
quarterly allowance, amounting in the whole to about four 
hundred thousand dollars; and half as much more was 
advanced on loan by the "farmers general," to be repaid by 
remittances of tobacco. Being thus at once supplied with 
upwards of half a million of dollars, they sent home arms 
and equipments, fitted out armed vessels, and supplied the 
American cruisers touching at French ports. 

Meanwhile the British ambassador at Paris, Lord Stor- 
mont, was loud in his remonstrances, complaining of the 
underhand aid afforded to the insuro-ents, their fitting; out 
vessels of war from French ports, bringing in prizes and 
effecting sales, &c. Vergennes made a show of rebuking 
the commissioners, but the latter do not seem to have been 
deterred by it from their operations. They wrote to Lord 
Stormont relative to an exchange of prisoners. Ilis lord- 
ship pompously replied : "The king's ambassador receives 
no application from rebels, unless they come to implore his 
majesty's mercy." Franklin's reply, signed also by Deane, 
to this impertinence, was : " My Lord : In answer to a let- 
ter, which concerns some of the most material interests of 
humanity, and of the two nations, Great Britain and the 



ALLIANCE WITH FRANCE. 77 

United States of America, noAV at war, we received the 
enclosed indecent paper as coming from your lordship, 
which we return for your lordship's more mature considera- 
tion." The British ministry, finding the balance of prison- 
ers against them, were soon glad to accept the proposition 
thus magnificently put aside by Lord Stormont. 

Although the sympathies of the French court seemed to 
be heartily with the Americans from the first, it abstained 
from committing itself openly until the news of Burgoyne's 
surrender to the Americans under Gates,* at Saratoga, 
October 17th, 1777, was received in France. That event 
decided the French cabinet in its course. " The capitulation 
of Burgoyne," writes Franklin, " has caused the most gen- 
eral joy in France, as if it were a victory won by her own 
troops over her own enemies. Such is the universal ardent 
and sincere good-will and attachment of this nation for us and 
our cause." He availed himself of this moment of enthusi- 
asm to promote the interests of his country. 

On the 7th of December, Vergennes informed the Amer- 
ican commissioners that his majesty was disposed to estab- 
lish more direct relations with the United States. Two 
treaties were signed February 6, 1778 ; one of amity and 
commerce, the other of alliance for mutual defence, by 
which the kino; a2;reed to make common cause with the 
United States, should England attempt to obstruct the com- 
merce with France ; and guaranteed to the United States 
their liberty, sovereignty and independence. "The king," 
writes Franklin, "has treated with us generously and* mag- 
nanimously ; taken no advantage of our present difficulties 
to exact terms which we Avould not w^illingly grant when 
established in prosperity and power." "England is in 
2;reat consternation." The intelligence of the sis-nino- of 
these treaties, which were at once ratified by C'^ngress, was 
received with the greatest rejoicing throughout the United 
States. In England it created much dissatisfaction, and led 
to the recall of her ambassador from Paris. 



* This sui'render gave occasion to Sheridan's mischievous epigram upon 
Burgoyne, who aspired to be a dramatist as well as a military commander : 

" Burgoyne surrendered ? 0, ye fates I 
Could not that Samson carry Gates } " 

7* 



78 MEMOIR OE BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

The American commissioners now appeared at court on a 
footing with the representatives of other independent powers. 
Franklin was presented by Vergennes to Louis the Six- 
teenth at Versailles, and was received with the clapping of 
hands and other tokens of welcome from the surrounding 
courtiers. He appeared at this royal audience very simply 
attired, with straight, unpowdered hair, a brown cloth coat, 
and round hat. A crowd had collected to see him. His age, 
his venerable aspect, his simple dress, contrasted with the 
finery around him, the recollection of his services to science 
and humanity, all combined to waken the utmost enthu- 
siasm of the spectators. The king received him with much 
cordiality, charging him to assure the United States of his 
friendship, and expressing his satisfaction with the conduct 
of their commissioner during his residence in France. On 
his withdrawing from this audience, the crowd in the pas- 
sage-ways received Franklin with renewed manifestations 
of welcome, and followed him for some distance. The 
enthusiasm of which he had been the object at Versailles 
was renewed at Paris. Voltaire had recently arrived there, 
after an absence of thirty years. He was in his eighty- 
fifth year. Franklin called upon him, and was received with 
evident pleasure. Voltaire at first accosted him in English; 
but, having lost the habit of speaking it, he resumed the 
conversation in French, adroitly remarking, "I could not 
resist the temptation of speaking for a moment the language 
of Franklin." The Philadelphia sage then presented his 
grandson to the patriarch of Ferney, and asked his blessing 
upon him. " God and liberty ! " said Voltaire, raising his 
hands over the young man's head; " that is the only bene- 
diction appropriate to the grandson of Franklin. " ' 

A few days after this interview, the same parties met at 
the Academy of Sciences, and were placed side by side. 
The sight of these distinguished old men elicited another 
outbreak of Parisian enthusiasm. The cry arose that 
they should embrace. They stood up, bowed, took each 
other by the hand, and spoke. But this was not enough. 
The clamor continued. ''II faut s'embrasser a la Fran- 
caise," was the cry: whereupon they kissed each other on 
the cheek, — and not till then did the tumult subside. The 
scene was classically compared, by the litterateurs of tha 



DISCORD AMONG THE COMMISSIONERS. TO 

day, to '• Solon embracing Sophocles.'' Voltaire lived only 
a month after this second encounter with his American 
contemporary. 

Franklin was greatly annoyed at this time by applica- 
tions for employment in the service of the United States. 
In a letter to a friend he says : " Frequently, if a man has 
no useful talents, is good for nothing, and buixlensome to 
his relations, or is indiscreet, profligate and extravagant, they 
are glad to get rid of him by sending him to the other end 
of the world ; and for that purpose scruple not to recom- 
mend him to those they wish should recommend him to oth- 
ers, as ' ^^?^ bon sujet — jy/em de merite^'' kc. &c. In 
consequence of my crediting such recommendations, my own 
are out of credit, and I cannot advise anybody to have the 
least dependence on them." And he humorously adds : 
'' You can have no conception how I am harassed. All my 
friends are sought out and teased to tense me. Great offi- 
cers of all ranks, in all departments, ladies great and small, 
besides professed solicitors, worry me from morning to 
night. The noise of every coach now that enters my court 
terrifies me. I am afraid to accept an invitation to dine 
abroad, being almost sure of meeting with some officer or 
officer's friend, who, as soon as I am put in good humor by 
a glass or two of champagne, begins his attack upon me." 

There was one illustrious exception to the annoyances he 
received from applications for letters to America. The fol- 
lowing passage is from a letter to Congress, signed by him 
and Mr. Deane : "The Marquis de Lafayette, a young 
nobleman of great family connections here, and great wealth, 
is gone to America in a ship of his own, accompanied by 
some officers of distinction, in order to serve in our armies. 
He is exceedingly beloved, and everybody's good wishes 
attend him. We cannot but hope he may meet with such 
a reception as will make the country and his expedition 
agreeable to him." 

Most of the business of the commission was, for tne first 
eight or nine months, transacted by Franklin and Deane. 
Mr. Arthur Lee being absent the greater part of the time 
in Spain and Germany. The feelings of. this gentleman 
towards his colleagues do not seem to have been of a char- 
acter that promised harmony of action. Thinking that Mr, 



80 MEMOIR OF BE.NJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

Deane had taken the neo;otiation with Beaiimarchais out of 
his hands, he had quarrelled ^Yitll him incontinently. 
Towards Franklin his malevolence seems to have commenced 
in London, on account of the prolongation of Franklin's 
stay there as agent for Massachusetts, while he himself was 
expecting the reversion of the office. Petulant, irritable 
and distrustful, he seems to have been one of that class of 
persons who think that nothing can be well carried out in 
which they do not have a ruling hand. Returning to Paris, 
he found fault with all that his colleagues had done or left 
undone during his absence: criticized their contracts; charged 
Jhem with sq[uandering, if not embezzling, the public money ; 
and intimated that where they had not favored themselves 
in the disposition of it, they had used it for the benefit of 
their friends. In replying to one of his letters, Franklin 
writes : " It is true that I have omitted answering some of 
your letters, particularly your angry ones, in which you, 
with very magisterial airs, schooled and documented me, as 
if I had been one of your domestics. I saw in the strongest 
light the importance of our living in decent civility towards 
each other while our great affairs were depending here. I 
saw your jealous, suspicious, malignant and quarrelsome 
temper, which was daily manifesting itself against Mr. 
Deane, and almost every other person you had any concern 
with. I, therefore, passed your affronts in silence ; did not 
answer, but burnt, your angry letters ; and received you, 
when I next saw you, with the same civility as if you had 
never wrote them." On the subject of personal expenses, 
Franklin adds : "If you think we should account to one 
another for our expenses, I have no objection, though I 
never expected it. I believe they will be found very mod- 
erate. I answer mine will, having had only the necessaries 
of life, and purchased nothing besides, except the Encyclo- 
pedia, nor sent a sixpence worth of anything to my friends 
or family in America.' 

Not content with scolding his colleagues on the spot, 
Arthur Lee wrote home injurious letters respecting them 
to members of Congress, cliarging them with peculation and 
indifference to the public interests. He did not have the 
craft, however, to conceal his ambitious motive. In the 
same letter in which he casts these aspersions upon his col 



ARRIVAL OF JOHN ADAMS. 81 

leagues, be proposes tliat he should be retained at the 
court of France. Franklin sent to Vienna, and Deane to 
Holland. An ally, in the person of Mr. Ralph Izard, soon 
appeared on the scene, from whom Mr. Lee received com- 
fort and countenance in his acrimonious course towards his 
colleagues. Mr. Izard had been appointed by Congress 
commissioner to the Court of Tuscany. He preferred to 
remain in Paris, and claimed a voice in the negotiations 
with the court of France. Franklin does not seem to have 
encouraged the claim, and this was Mr. Izard's first griev- 
ance. His second was. that Franklin, throudi w^iom the 
public drafts were negotiated, after having paid to Mr. 
Izard some twelve thousand dollars as commissioner to 
Tuscany, declined paying him any more until there was 
a prospect of his getting to Tuscany, or, at least, until he 
w^as otherwise instructed by Congress. Mr. Izard, who 
was a passionate though not ungenerous man, took mortal 
offence at this refusal to open the public purse-strings, and 
was profuse thenceforward in his denunciations of Franklin. 
To the annoyances resulting from the personal hostility of 
Messrs. Lee and Izard, the brave old man submitted with 
his habitual equanimity and good temper. To Mr. Izard 
he Avrites : "I must submit to remain some days under the 
opinion you appear to have formed, not only of my poor 
understanding in the general interests of America, but of 
my defects in sincerity, politeness, and attention to your 
instructions. These offences, I flatter m^^self, admit of fair 
excuses, or w^ill be found not to have existed.'' 

Mr. Deane did not exercise due caution in the matter of 
engaging foreign officers ; and as Congress began, to feel 
some inconveniences from his imprudence in this respect, 
they recalled him. and appointed John Adams his successor. 
Mr. Adams arrived in Paris April 8, 1778. It appears, 
from his recently published diary while in France, that his 
sentiments towards Franklin were far from friendly. He 
writes : " The first moment Dr. Franklin and I happened 
to be alone, he began to complain to me of the coolness, as 
lie very coolly called it^ between the American ministers." 
'' Franklin's cunning will be to divide us," says Mr. Adams 
on another occasion. And again: "Thinking this to be 
the best course I could take, to become familiar with the 



82 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

language and its correct pronunciation I determined to fre- 
quent the • theatres as often as possible. Accordingly, I 
went as often as I could, and found a great advantage in it, 
as well as an agreeable entertainment. But as Dr. Fi'anklin 
had almost daily occasion for the carriage, and I was deter- 
mined the public should not be put to the expense of another 
for me, I could not go so often as I wished." 

The truth was, that Franklin's reputation in France so 
towered above that of his colleagues, that the latter found 
themselves mere ciphers by his side, both in society and in 
cliplomatic encounters. Mr. Adams candidly admits this. 
"On Dr. Franklin," he says, "the eyes of all Europe are 
fixed, as the most important character in American affiiirs in 
Europe ; neither Lee nor myself is looked upon of much 
consequence." To men of spirit, in their country's service, 
this absorption of their diplomatic individualities in another 
must have been galling in the extreme. Adams felt it, as 
well as Lee : but, instead of intris-uins; to have Franklin dis- 
placed, he simply wrote home to a member of Congress, repre- 
senting the inconveniences resulting from the multiplicity 
of ministers, and recommending the continuance of one only. 
This he did, after considering, as he tells us, that the con- 
sequence of his plan would be that Franklin "would, un- 
doubtedly, as he ought, be left alone at the court of Ver- 
sailles," and that for himself the alternative would be to 
return to America. These representations had their weight 
with Congress, and on the 14th of September, 1778, 
Franklin was appointed minister plenipotentiary to the 
court of France. His enemies had created some little op- 
position, to him in Congress, and, at one time, on a proposition 
for his recall, among thirty-five members, eight voted in 
favor of it, and twenty-seven against it. He took no trou])le 
to contradict malevolent reports, but relied upon the justice 
of Congress to take no step without giving him an oppor- 
tunity of exculpation ; and his reliance was justified by the 
result. Some years afterwards, he wrote to John Jay : 
" I have, as you observe, some enemies in England, but 
they are my enemies as an American ; I have also two or 
three in America, who are my enemies as a minister ; but 
I thank God there are not in the whole world any who are 
my enemies as a raan ; for by His grace, through a long 



TUB MINISTRY TRY TO MAKE TERMS. 83 

life, I have been enabled to conduct myself that there does 
not exist a human being who can justly say, ' Ben Frank- 
lin has tvronged me.' This, my friend, is, in old age. a 
comfortable reflection." 

As the British government had now a prospective war 
with France and Spain on their hands, they began to be 
desirous of making terms with the United States. Several 
secret agents, selected generally on account of their per- 
sonal acquaintance with Eranklin, were sent over to Paris 
to confer with him on the subject of a negotiation. James 
Hutton, secretary to the society of Moravians, and whom 
Franklin addresses as "his dear old friend," came first; 
then followed Mr. Pulteney, a member of Parliament, who 
assumed in Paris the name of Williams : and finally came 
Mr. David Hartley, also a member of Parliament, affec- 
tionately regarded by Franklin. To all these informal 
negotiators he replied that every proposition implying a 
return on the part of the United States to a dependence on 
Great Britain was now become impossible ; but that a 
peace, on equal terms, undoubtedly might be made. Find- 
ing that he could get little satisfaction for the ministry from 
Franklin, Mr. Hartley, in a letter of April 23, 1778, 
wrote to him : "If tempestuous times should come, take 
care of your own safety ; events are uncertain, and men 
may be capricious." To which Franklin replies : " I thank 
you for your kind caution, but, having nearly finished a 
long life, I set but little value on what remains of it. Like 
a draper when one cheapens with him for a remnant, I am 
ready to say, ' As it is only the fag-end, I will not differ 
with you about it; take it for what you please.' Perhaps 
the best use such an old fellow could be put to is to make 
a martyr of him." 

In June, 1778, he received from a supposed secret agent 
of the British ministry, signing himself Charles De Weis- 
senstein, a letter, declaring the impossibility of their recog- 
nizing the independence of the Colonies ; proposing that 
America should be governed by a Congress of American 
peers, and that Franklin, Washington, Adams and Han- 
cock, should be of the number. '• Ask our friend if he 
should like to be a peer?" writes John Adams to Elbridge 
Gerry, in ridicule of the proposition. ' ' Dr. Franklin, to 



84 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

whom the letter was sent," he adds, ''as the writer is sup- 
posed to be a friend of his, sent an answer, in which they 
have received a dose that will make them sick." Still 
another effort to conciliate Franklin was made by the 
British ministry. In May, 1779, his friend, the estimable 
William Jones, afterwards the distinguished Sir William, 
author of the celebrated ode, "What Constitutes a State," 
and translator of various poems from Asiatic languages, 
visited Paris, and made an ingenious communication to 
Franklin, which, under the guise and title of " A. Fragment 
of Polybius," indirectly proposed an arrangement hy 
which the Colonies would gain everything except independ- 
ence. This attempt was as fruitless as those that had 
preceded it. 

About this time the celebrated naveJ adventurer, John 
Paul Jones, was in France He is described by John 
Adams as "the most ambitious and intrio-uino; officer in the 
American navy. His voice is soft ; his eye has keenness, 
and wildness, and softness." In compliment to Franklin, 
whose "Poor Richard's Maxims" were quite popular in 
France, he named the forty-two gun-ship of the mixed 
French and English scjuadron of which he had the com- 
mand the Bon Homme Bichard. His victory in this ship 
over the Serapis obtained for Jones the present of a gold- 
hilted sword from the French kino-. 

o 

The commission to France having been dissolved, John 
Adams returned to America, but was, in September 1779, 
appointed by Congress commissioner to negotiate a peace 
with Great Britain whenever an opportunity might offer. 
This measure had been recommended by M. Gerard, the 
French minister in the United States, and by his successor, 
M. Luzerne. We are told, in Mr. Adams's fragmentary 
autobiography, that it had been the expectation of the French 
ministry "in both cases, that Franldin would be elected;" 
and that "in this respect Congress disappointed them." 
It was soon evident that Congress did not act with wisdom 
in this. Mr. Adams possessed little of that suavity of man- 
ner so important in personal negotiations. Franklin wrote 
of him, that, though "always an honest man, and often a 
wise one, he was sometimes, and in some things, absolutely 
out of his senses." Adams himself tells us that Mr. David 



VALUE OF FRENCH ALLIANCE. 85 

Hartley spoke of him as '' the most ungracious man he ever 
saw." Arriving in Paris on his second mission in Febru- 
ary. 1780, Adams soon found himself uncomfortable at the 
French court, having given oifence to Vergennes in his 
correspondence Franklin had confidence in the upright and 
generous intentions of the court, and wrote to the president 
of Congress, — •' Mr. Ad:uns, on the contrary, who, at the 
same time, means our welfiire and interest as much as I or 
any man can do, seems to think a little apparent stoutness, and 
a greater air of independence and boldness in our demands, 
will procure us more ample assistance." Finding that he 
could bring little to pass in Paris, Adams proceeded to 
Holland, where he had been authorized to negotiate a loan, 
but where he at first failed in his object, and was obliged 
to resort to Franklin's influence with the French court to 
provide for the heavy drafts which Congress had made on 
their commissioner for a peace, in the expectation of the 
success of his financial application to the Dutch. 

There can be little doubt that the liberal and timely aid 
rendered by France to the United States was due, in a 
great measure, to the personal influence and the diplomatic 
address of Franklin. Hostility to Great Britain was an 
element that entered largely into the policy which supplied 
this aid ; but that hostility would not have availed to in- 
duce that policy, had it not been that the United States 
had an envoy on the spot, who personally commended his 
country's cause to tlie French court and people, in a 
manner the most ample and impressive. We have Frank- 
lin's own testimony to the fact that Vergennes never prom- 
ised him anything -'which he did not punctually perform." 
Franklin accordingly carried into his diplomatic intercourse 
the unsuspicious manners which his conviction of the sin- 
cerity of the party with which he was dealing made easy ; 
and he obtained, through the personal regard of the king 
and ministry for himself, concessions and loans for his 
country which would not have been granted to him in his 
public capacity, unsustained by the influences which his 
private reputation and demeanor had created. He seems to 
have been deeply impressed with "the noble and generous 
manner" in which France, "without stipulating for a 
single privilege," had '-afforded us aid in our distress ; " 
8 



8G MExMOIR OP BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

and thongli there were many tlien -who undervalued our 
obligations, and though there are many still Avho speak 
slightingly of them, no one can study intimately the history 
of those times without admitting that the aid of France was 
most timely and important, and that the news of her alli- 
ance was better than an army in sending confidence and 
joy through our dwindling ranks. It was reported to his 
prejudice, in the United States, that Franklin had been so 
flattered in France that he was ready to favor that country 
at the expense of his own. But time has fully exposed the 
absurdity of the suspicion, and justified him in his un- 
waverino; confidence in the o;ood fiiith of our allies. In the 
summer of 1780, Count Rochambeau arrived at Newport, 
Rhode Island, with a French army of six thousand men ; 
and, in 1781, Franklin procured from France an additional 
loan of three millions of livres, and the sum of six millions, 
not as a loan, but as a free gift. 

On the 12th of March, 1781, being then in his seventy-sixth 
year, he wrote to the President of Congress, requesting his 
recall. John Adams speaks of this as a "pretended request ;" 
but there is no evidence to sustain the idea of simulation. 
" I do not know," writes Franklin, " that my mental facul- 
ties are impaired ; perhaps I shall be the last to discover 
that ; but I am sensible of great diminution in my activity, 
a quality I think particularly necessary in your minister for 
this court. I find, also, that the business is too heavy for 

me, and too confining I purpose to remain here at 

least till the peace ; perhaps it may be for the remainder 
of my life." To a friend, who wrote, urging him, in com- 
plimentary terms, to continue at his post, Franklin, who 
was never at a loss for an illustrative story, replied : ' ' Your 
comparison of the key-stone of an arch is very pretty, 
tending to make me content-with my situation. But I sup- 
pose you have heard our story of the harrow : if not, here 
it is : — A farmer in our country sent two of his servants 
to borrow one of a neighbor, ordering them to bring it be- 
tween them on their shoulders. When they came to look 
at it, one of them, who had much wit, said, ' What could our 
master mean by sending only two men to bring this har- 
row? No two men upon earth are strong enough to carry it.' 
'Poll ! ' said the other, who was vain of his strength, ' what do 



THE BRITISH TREATY SIGNED. 87 

you talk of two men. — one man may carry it ; help it upon 
my shoulders, and you shall see.' As he proceeded with it, 
the wag kept exclaiming, ' Zounds ! how strong you are ! 
I could not have thought it ! Why, you are a Samson ! 
There is not such another man in Am.erica. "What amazino- 
strength God has given you ! But you will kill yourself ! 
Pray put it down and rest a little, or let me bear a part of 
the weight.' ' No, no,' said he, being more encouraged by 
the compliments than oppressed by the burden ; ' you shall 
see I can carry it quite home.' And so he did. In this 
particular I am afraid my part of the imitation will fall 
short of the original." But to Franklin's application for a 
release, Congress replied, the following June, by appoint- 
ing him one of a commission of five, including John Adams. 
Jay, Jeiferson * and Laurens, to negotiate a treaty of 
peace. Finding his health "considerably reestablished," 
Franklin accepted the new appointment. 

The preliminary conditions, which he laid down, as 
essential to any treaty with Great Britain, were, the inde- 
pendence of the United States full and complete, a satis- 
factory boundary, and a participation in the Newfoundland 
fisheries. It has been stated that he was not decided in 
regard to the last-named condition. But the evidence to 
the contrary is most explicit. Both Mr. Adams and Mr. 
Oswald, the British negotiator, testify that Franklin in- 
sisted on the condition as essential ; and Mr. Jay, in a 
letter to Franklin, says, ''I do not recollect the least dif- 
ference of sentiment between us respecting the boundaries 
or fisheries." 

Notwithstanding the liberal conduct of France towards 
the United States, and the fact that the American com- 
missioners had positive instructions to undertake nothing 
without her concurrence in negotiating a peace, a treaty 
with Great Britain was signed on the 30th of November, 
1782, without the cooperation or knowledge of our generous 
ally. In a letter, dated the 5th of the follov/ing month, 
and addressed to Robert R. Livingston, Franklin writes : 

" The arrival of Mr. .Jay, Mr. Adams and Mr. Laurens, relieved me 
from much anxietj', Avliich must have continued if I had been left to finish 
the treaty alone; and it has given me the more satisfaction, as I am sure the 

* lu consequence of his wife's illness, Jefferson did not go to France 
till after the treaty of peace was signed. 



88 MEMOIR OF BEXJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

business has profited by their assistance. Much of the summer -was taken 
up in objecting to the powers given by Great Britain, and in removing 
those objections. The using any expressions that might imply an acknowl^ 
edgment of our mdependence seemed, at first, industriously to be avoided. 
But our refusing otherwise to treat at length induced them to get over 
that difficulty : and then we came to the point of making pi^opositions. 

" The British ministers struggled hard for two points, — that the favors 
granted to the royalists should be extended, and our fishery contracted. 
We silenced them on the first, by threatening to produce an account of 
the mischiefs done by those people ; and as to the second, when they told 
us they could not possibly agree to it as we required it, and must refer it 
to the ministry in London, we produced a new article to be referred at the 
same time, with a note of facts in support of it, which you have. No. 3. 
Apparently it seemed that, to avoid the discussion of this, they suddenly 
changed their minds, dropped the design of recurring to London, and 
agi-eed to allow the fishery as demanded. 

"We communicated all the articles, as soon as they were signed, to 
Mons. le Comte de Vergennes (except the separate one) , who thinks we 
have managed well, and told me that we had settled what was most 
apprehended as a difficulty in the work of a general peace, by obtaining 
the declaration of our independence.'" 

Vergennes was chagrined, not without cause, at the 
course of the commissioners. "I am at a loss, sir," he 
wrote to Franklin, "to explain your conduct and that of 
your colleagues on this occasion. You have concluded 
your preliminary articles without any communication be- 
tween us, although the instructions from Congress pre- 
scribe that nothing shall be done without the participation 
of the king." To this Franklin rephed : "Nothing has 
been agreed in the preliminaries contrary to the interests 
of France ; and no peace is to take place betw^een us and 
England till you have concluded yours." He admitted 
that the commissioners, in not consulting Vergennes, had 
been guilty of "neglecting a point of bieiisearice ;''' but, 
as this "was not from want of respect to the king," he 
hoped it would be excused. The probability is, that as 
Jay and Adams were extremely jealous of French influence, 
and full of suspicions (which turned out chimerical) on the 
subject, Franklin yielded, against his better judgmwit and 
inclinations, to a course, his opposition to which w^ould have 
been misconstrued, and, perhaps, abortive. Notwithstand- 
ing the slight put upon the French court, Vergennes w^ag 
magnanimous enough, a few days after, to advance another 
loan of upw^ards of a million of dollars to the United States. 
The whole course of the French court towards the people 



SUCCEEDED BY JEFFERSON. 89 

of tlie United States shows that Franklin did not err when 
he pronounced it " noble, generous, and sincere." 

The treaty signed by the commissioners was duly ratified 
by Congress, and was received with much approbation by 
the people of the United States. 

Franklin now arranged highly favorable terms for the 
ptiyment of our debt to France ; negotiated a treaty with 
Sweden, the first power to welcome us into the family of 
nations ; and also a treaty with Prussia, in which he incor- 
porated a humane article against privateering, of which 
practice he always had the greatest abhorrence, denouncing 
it as "robbery" and "piracy." On the 13th of May, 
1784, the ratifications of a definitive treaty were inter- 
changed between Mr. Hartley on the side of Great Britain, 
the Count de Vergennes, and Franklin and Jay. In rela- 
tion to this event, Franklin writes to Charles Thompson, 
Secretary of Congress : ' ' Thus the great and hazardous en- 
terprise we have been engaged in is. God be praised, happily 
completed ; an event I hardly expected I should live to see. 
A few years of peace, well improved, will restore and in- 
crease our strength ; but our future safety will depend on 
our union and our virtue. Britain will be lono; watchins!: 
for advantages, to recover what she has lost. If we do not 
convince the world that we are a nation to be depended on 
for fidelity in our treaties, — if we appear negligent in paying 
our debts, and ungrateful to those who have served and be- 
friended us, — our reputation, and all the strength it is 
capable of procuring, will be lost, and fresh attacks upon us 
will be encouraged and promoted by better prospects of 
success." 

At length, to Franklin's repeated applications for a recall, 
— applications which had long been unheeded, because 
Congress was well aware of his profound skill in diplomacy, 
his influence and his patriotic devotion, — a substitute at 
the French court was, in March 1785. appointed in Mr. 
Jefferson. " You have come to fill Dr. Franklin's place 7 " 
some one asked. " 0, no, sir ! " replied Jefierson ; "no 
man living can do that ; but I am appointed to succored 
him." 

8* 



90 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 



XL 

Franklin's public celebrity in France seems to have been 
almost eclipsed by the social esteem in which he was held in 
private. " You wish to know how I live," he w^rites to Mrs. 
Stevenson, under date of Passy, 1779. " I have abundance 
of acquaintance ; dine abroad six days in seven. Sundays 
I reserve to dine at home, with such Americans as pass this 
way ; and I then have my grandson Ben, with some other 
American children, from the school. If being treated with 
all the politeness of France, and the apparent respect and 
esteem of all ranks, from the highest to the lowest, can 
make a man happy, I ought to be so." To a friend in 
America he writes: "The account you have had of the 
vogue I am in here has some truth in it. Perhaps few 
strangers in France have had the good fortune to be so 
universally popular. ' ' 

"His company Avas sought," says Mignet, "not only as 
the most illustrious, but as the most agreeable, that the 
times afforded. He inspired his friends with sentiments of 
tenderness, admiration and respect ; nor was his attachment 
to them less strong. He had an especially affectionate 
regard for Madame Helvetius,* whom he called ' Our Lady 
of Auteuil,' and who came every week to dine at least once 
with him and his little colony at Passy. Pie had lost his 
wife in 1779 ; and, notwithstanding his seventy-six years, 
he made a proposition of marriage to Madame Ilelvetius, 
shortly before the close of the war. But she had refused 
the hand of Turgot, and did not accept his. Franklin 
thereupon wrote her a letter, which is a model of wit and 
grace : 

" ' Chagrined,' he writes, 'at your barbarous resolution, 
pronounced so positively yesterday evening, to remain sin- 
gle during life, in honor of your dear husband, I withdrew 
to my chamber, fell upon my bed, believed myself dead, 
and found myself in the Elysian Fields. I was asked if I 
desired to see any persons in particular. " Lead me," said 
I, "to the philosophers." " There are two who reside here- 

* Widow of Helvetius, the celebrated materialist, author of " De L' 
esprit ' and other works of a similar tendency. She resided at Auteuil, 



LETTER TO MADAME HELVETIUS. 91 

about, in this garden. They are very good neighbois, and 
much attached to each other." " Who are they 7 " " Soc- 
rates and Helvetius." " I esteem them both prodigiously; 
but let me see Helvetius first, as I know a little French, 
but not a word of Greek." — He received me very courte- 
ously, having known me, he said, by reputation, some time. 
He asked me a thousand things about the war, and the 
present state of religion, liberty and government, in France. 
"But you do not inquire," said I, "after your dear Madame 
Helvetius; and yet she loves you excessively, and it is 
not an hour ao-o that I was with her." " Ah ! " said he, 
" you remind me of my former felicity : but one must forget 
it, if he would be happy here. For several years I could 
think only of her. At length I am consoled. I have 
taken another wife, — the most like her that I could find. 
She is not, it is true, altogether so handsome ; but she has 
as much good sense, a large share of wit, and she loves me 
devotedly. Her constant study is to please me, and she 
is gone out this moment to get the choicest nectar and 
ambrosia to regale me with this evening ; remain with me, 
and you will see her." " I perceive," returned I, "that 
your ancient companion is more faithful than you ; for she 
has had many excellent offers, all of which she has refused. 
I confess to you that I myself was in love with her to dis- 
traction ; but she was inexorable towards me. and rejected 
me absolutely for love of you." " I condole with you," said 
he, "for your misfortune; for, in truth, she is a good and 
beautiful lady, and amiable withal. But the Abbe de la 
11**^=^, and the Abbe j\r^-^-=**, are they not at her house 
sometimes?" "They certainly are; for not one of your 
friends has she dropped." "If you had gained over the 
Abbe M*^*=* (with some good coffee and cream) to speak 
for you, you would perhaps have succeeded ; for he is as 
subtle a reasoner as Duns Scotus or St. Thomas ; he puts 
his arguments in such strong order that they become 
almost irresistible. And if the Abbe de la R*^*=^ had 
been bribed (by some fine edition of an old classic) to speak 
against you, that would have been still better ; as I 
always observed, when he advised a thing, she had a strong 
inclination the other way." As he uttered these words, 
came in the new Madame Helvetius with tlie nectar : and 



92 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

at once I recognized in her my old American spouse, Mrs 
Franklin ! I re-claimed her, but she coldly said, " I was a 
good wife to you for forty-nine years and four months — ■ 
almost half a century ; be content with that. I have here 
formed a new connection, which shall last forever." Indig- 
nant at this refusal of my Eurydice, I forthwith resolved 
to quit these ungrateful spirits, and to return to this good 
world, to see once more the sun and you. Here I am ! 
Let us be revenged ! ' " 

Tliis piece of badinage was written by Franklin in 
French, and addressed to Madame Helvetius. If from this 
alone, Mi^net's mention of an offer of marriao;e is derived, 
the inference is undoubtedly erroneous. Franklin carried 
into his social intercourse with the sex a pleasantry which, 
without overstepping the bounds of the most respectful 
courtesy, was delightful to those who could appreciate the 
worth of a compliment from such a man, and the delicate 
humor with which it Avas masked. John Adams relates 
that there was a Mademoiselle de Passy, whom Franklin 
used to call his favorite, and his liame, and his love, which 
flattered the family, and did not displease the young lady. 
She was afterwards betrothed to the celebrated Marquis de 
Tonnerre {tonnerre^ the French for thunder). After the 
marquis had demanded mademoiselle for a w^ife, and 
obtained her, Madame de Chaumont, who was a wit, the 
first time she saw Franklin, cried out, " Helas ! tons les 
conducteurs de Monsieur Franklin n'ont pas empeche le 
tonnerre de tomber sur Mademoiselle de Passy." — (Alas ! 
all the conductors of Mr. Franklin have not prevented the 
thunder from lighting on Mademoiselle de Passy.) 

To Madame Brillon, one of his neighbors at Passy, 
Franklin addressed his admirable little story of " The 
Whistle," and his ingenious apologue, '• The Ephemera." 
Of this lady he says : '" She is of most respectable character 
and pleasing conversation ; mistress of an amiable family, 
with which I spend an evening twice in every week. She 
has, among other elegant accomplishments, that of an excel- 
lent musician ; and, with her daughters, who sing prettily, 
and some friends who play, she kindly entertains me and 
my grandson with little concerts, a cup of tea, and a game 
of chess. I call this my opera ; for I rarely go to the 



FRENCH COMPLIMENTS. \)S 

opera at Paris." At Saiioy. twelve miles from Paris, he 
was entertained with greaL distinction at a, fete chcunpHre^ 
April 12, 1781, bj the Count and Countess d'Houdctot. 
He planted a locust-tree in their garden ; and poems were 
recited, and a song sung in his honor, everj stanza of which 
was delivered bj a dijQferent member of the company. The 
third stanza was as follows : 

" Guillaume Tell fut brave, inais sauvage ; 
J'estime plus iiotre cher Benjamin ; 
De I'Aniprique en fixant le destin, 
A table il rit, et c'est la le vrai sage." * 

While at Passy, he wrote his " Dialogue with the (jrout," 
one of the most exquisite specimens of moral humor in the 
language. Various other pieces, which he classed under 
the name of " Bagatelles," were composed by him at this 
time by way of diversion amid his graver pursuits. He 
had always a fondness for his old printer's craft, and seemed 
proud of his proficiency in it. While residing at Passy, he 
had a small printing-office fitted up in his house, where he 
put in type and printed the "bagatelles" wdiich he penned 
for the amusement of his neighbors. 

In the society of Madame Helvetius, his acquaintance 
was sought by the chiefs of the encyclopedists, D'Alembcrt 
and Diderot, the latter of whom was atheistical or deistical 
according to the state of his health or the weather ; a writer 
who, while he assailed religion, was careful to give his chil- 
dren a religious education. Here, also, was introduced to 
Franklin the celebrated Turorot, who wrote the Latin eni- 
graph ■\ thenceforth attached to so many engravings of the 
American sage : 

" Eripuit coelo fulmen sceptrumque tyrannis.'* 

* William Tell was brave but rude ; 
More our Benjamin I prize, 
Who, while he shapes his country's good. 
Smiles at our board, there truly wise. 

t " He snatched the lightning from heaven, the sceptre from tyrants." 

The Latin line seems to have been suggested by the following, from the 
** Anti-Lucretius " of the Cardinal de Polignac : 



" Eripuitque Jovi fulmen Phoeboque sagittas." 

[ seem to have been partially borrowed \ 

nilius : 

♦* Ef ipuit Jori fulmen Ti^sqn© tonafndi " 



And this would seem to have been partially borrowed from the " Astro- 
nomica ' ' of Manilius : 



04 MEMOIR OP BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

Prints, medallion portraits, and busts of Franklin, were 
multiplied throughout France ; and rings, bracelets, canes 
and snuft- boxes, bearing his likeness, were worn or carried 
quite generally. Such was the steady modesty of his 
nature, however, that he experienced more embarrassment 
than gratification from Turgot's brilliant compliment. In 
palliation of it, he wrote to John Jay: "You must know 
that the desire of pleasing, by a perpetual rise of compli- 
ments, in this polite nation, has so used up all the common 
expressions of approbation, that they are become flat and 
insipid, and to use them almost implies censure. Hence 
music, that formerly might be sufficiently praised when it 
was called bonne, to go a little further they called it excel- 
lente, then superbe, magnifiqiie, exqidse, cilcste, all which 
being in their turns worn out, there only remains divine ; 
and, when that is grown as insignificant as its predecessors, 
I think they must return to common speech and common 
sense." To a poetaster of the day, Felix Nogaret, who 
applied to him for his opinion on a French translation of 
Turgot's verse, he replied : 

" Passy,S March, 1781. 
" Sir : I received the letter you have done me the honor of writing to 
me the 2d instant, wherein, after overwlielming me with a flood of com- 
pliments, which I can never hope to merit, you request my opinion of your 
translation of a Latin verse that has been applied to me. If I were^ which 
I Ideally am not, sixfficiently skilled in your excellent language to be a judge 
of its poesy, the supposition of my being the subject must restrain me from 
any opinion on that line, except that it ascribes too much to me, especially 
in what relates to the tyrant ; the revolution having been the work of 
many able and brave men, wherein it is sufficient honor for me if I am 
allowed a small share." 

Among the first to welcome Franklin at Paris, was Con- 
dorcet, the friend and biographer of both Voltaire and Tur- 
got, and whom John Adams describes as "a philosopher 
with a face as pale, or rather as white, as a sheet of paper.*' 
Cabanis, the celebrated physician, and the friend of Mira- 
beau, BufFon, the " Pliny of France," Eaynal, Mably, 
Yicq d'Azyr, La Rochefoucauld, the Abbe Morellet, the 
Abbe La Koche, Le Roy, Le Veillard, Malesherbes, and 
other eminent statesmen and men of letters, were among 
the associates or intimate friends of Franklin. With Mira- 
beau, before the latter had attained his marvellous reputa- 



HIS ACQUAINTANCE WITH FRENCH. 95 

tion, he seems to have been well acquainted, and gave him 
a letter of introduction to Benjamin Vaughan, in London. 
"This will be handed you," he writes, "by Count Mira- 
beau, son of the Marquis of that name, author of L'Ami 
des Hommes. This gentleman is esteemed here, and I 
recommend him to your civilities and counsels, particularly 
with respect to the printing of a piece he has written on the 
subject of Jiereditary nobility^ on occasion of the order of 
Cincinnati lately attempted to be established in America, 
T^-hich cannot be printed here. I find that some of the best 
judges think it extremely well written, with great clearness, 
force and elegance. If you can recommend him to an hon- 
est, reasonable bookseller, that will undertake it, vou will 
do him service, and perhaps some to mankind, who" are too 
much bigoted in many countries to that kind of imposition."' 

We have already seen that he was subjected, in his diplo- 
matic capacity, to numerous applications, which taxed his 
time and patience exorbitantly. His scientific reputation 
invited propositions hardly less annoying from speculators 
and inventors. " The number of wild schemes proposed to 
me," he writes, "is so great, and they have heretofore 
taken so much of my time, that I begin to reject all. thouo-h 
possibly some of them may be worth notice." Under date 
of Passy, December 13, 1778, after recording in his diary 
the visits of three of these experimenters on the same day, 
he makes the following note : " Received a parcel from an 
unknown philosopher, who submits to my consideration a 
memoir on the subject of e/ewey^^a^y^;•e, containing exper- 
iments in a dark chamber. It seems to be well written, 
and is in English, with a little tincture of French idiom. I 
wish to see the experiments, without which I cannot well 
judge of it." This "unknown philosopher" was after- 
wards discovered to be Marat, the sanguinary monster, 
whose atrocities during the revolution roused Charlotte Cor- 
day to rid the world of his presence. 

Franklin spoke French but indifferently, and his pro- 
nunciation was defective. He told John Adams that he was 
wholly inattentive to the grammar. Madame Geoifrin, to 
whom, in his visit to France in 1767 or 17G9, he brought a 
letter from David Hume, reported that she could not initi- 
ate him into the language. Notwithstanding his advanced 



9b MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

age, Vi'hcn lie established himself at Passy, he lived to make 
a great improvement in speaking French, and to enjoy it 
perfectly in the hearing. In the year 1779, he read a 
paper on the Aurora Borealis to the Royal Academy of 
Sciences at Paris, in which he traced the phenomenon to 
electrical agencies. At times he would be led into amusino- 
misapprehensions, through his difficulty in understanding 
the language when uttered with rapidity. On one occasion, 
being present at a sitting of the Lyceum or the Academy, 
during the delivery of a lecture, and not distinctly under- 
standing the French that was spoken, he thought, in order 
not to be wanting in politeness, that every time he saw 
Madame de Bouflers give signs of approbation, he would 
applaud ; but he afterwards found that, without knowing it, 
he had applauded most vigorously those passages which had 
been complimentary to himself. 

In March, 1784, a royal commission was appointed to 
investigate the subject of anim^al magnetism, the marvels of 
which had been recently disclosed by Mesmer. Franklin 
was placed at the head of this commission, which numbered 
Le Roy, Bailly, Guillotin (proposer of the guillotine as an 
instrument of death), and other men of science and physi- 
cians. Some six months were given to an investigation of 
the subject ; but Franklin, through indisposition, was absent 
from many of the sittings. An attempt was on one occasion 
made to affect him by the mesmeric passes, but it did not 
succeed. The commissioners, through Bailly, reported 
adversely to the claims of Mesmer, but admitted certain 
phenomena, which they attributed to the agency of the 
imagination. This was merely giving a vague name to what 
was inexplicable. Franklin wrote thus cautiously upon the 
subject, to M. de la Condamine, prior to the action of the 
commission: "As to the animal magnetism, so much 
talked of, I must doubt its existence till I can see or feel 
some effect of it. None of the cures said to be performed 
by it have fallen under my observation, and there are so 
many disorders which cure themselves, and such a disposi- 
tion in mankind to deceive themselves and one another on 
these occasions, and living long has given me so frequent 
opportunities of seeing certain remedies cried up as curing 
everything, and yet soon after totally laid aside as useless. 



MESMERISM AND POETRY. 9T 

I cannot but fear that the expectation of great advantage 
from this new method of treating diseases will prove a delu- 
sion. That delusion may, however, and in some cases, be 
of use while it lasts. There are in every great, rich city a 
number of persons who are never in health, because they 
are fond of medicines, and always taking them, whereby 
they derange the natural functions, and hurt their constitu- 
tion. If these people can be persuaded to forbear their 
drugs, in expectation of being cured by only the physician's 
linger, or an iron rod pointing at them, they may possibly 
find good effects, though they mistake the cause." At a 
later period he wrote to Dr. Ingenhousz : " Mesmer is still 
here, and has still some adherents and some practice. It is 
surprising how much credulity still subsists in the world. I 
suppose all the physicians in France put together have not 
made so much money, during the time he has been here, as 
he alone has done. And we have now a fresh folly. A 
magnetizer pretends that he can, by establishing what is 
called a rapport between any person and a somnambule^ 
put it in the power of that person to direct the actions of 
the sonmcmihide^ by a simple strong volition only, without 
speaking or making any signs ; and many people daily flock 
to see this strange operation." 

While resident at Passy, Franklin received a present of 
Cowper's Poems, then beginning to win their way to fame, 
and he wrote to the donor : " The relish for reading poetry 
had long since left me ; but there is something so new in 
the manner, so easy and yet so correct in the language, so 
clear in the expression, yet concise, and so just in the sen- 
timents, that I have read the whole with great pleasure, and 
some of the pieces more than once. I beg you to accept my 
thankful acknowledgments, and to present my respects to 
the author." Cowper was well pleased with the compli- 
ment, coming, as he said, from ' ' one of the first philoso- 
phers, one of the most eminent literary characters, as well 
as one of the most important in the political world, that the 
present age can boast of;" and he playfully remarks: 
" We may now treat the critics as the Archbishop of Toledo 
treated Gil Bias when he found fault with one of his 
sermons." 

Among the opportunities which Franklin took for employ- 



98 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLm. 

ing his official powers in belialf of the cause of humanity 
and science, was that of instructinoi; American cruisers not 
to seize Captain Cook"s vessel, and granting passports to 
vessels despatched with relief to the Moravian missions, and 
alms for sufferers in the West India Colonies. On the pub- 
lication of " Cook's Voyage," a copy was forwarded to 
Franklin, with the approbation of the king : and, subse- 
quently, one of the gold medals struck in honor of Captain 
Cook by the Royal Society was sent to him. 

The period for his departure from France having now 
arrived; he received from Count Yergennes and other offi- 
cial personages the most cordial assurances of esteem, and 
regrets at his quitting the country. A French national 
vessel would have been provided for him, if the minister of 
marine had been apprized sooner of his intended return 
home. His many distinguished fiiends took leave of him, 
one by one, with marks of the most affectionate interest and 
regard. To his old friend, David Hartley, he wrote, "in 
his eightieth year: " '"I cannot quit the coasts of Europe 
without taking leave of my ever dear friend, Mr. Hartley. 
We were long fellow-laborers in the best of all works, the 
"work of peace. I leave you still in the field, but, having 
finished my day's task, I am going home to go to bed. Wish 
me a good night's rest, as I do you- a pleasant evening. 
Adieu!" 

He set out from Passy, with his two grandsons and M. 
Yeillard, July 12, 1785. He travelled in one of the 
queen's litters, borne by two large mules, the muleteer 
riding another. The journey to Havre occupied six days, 
and he was entertained on the route with great distinction, 
by the Cardinal de la Rochefoucauld, M. Holker the 
banker, and others. At Rouen a deputation from the 
Academy came with their compliments. From Havre he 
passed over in a packet-boat to Southampton, where he 
remained four days. Here he was met by his son, William 
Temple Franklin, — expatriated on account of his loyalist 
principles, and in the receipt of a pension from the British 
government. Here, also, were assembled to welcome him 
the "good bishop" of St. Asaph, his wife and daughter, 
Mr. Benjamin Vaughan, and other English friends. On 
the 2Tth of July, he embarked in the London packet, Cap- 



i.ETURxs ho:je. 99 

tain Truxton, one of his fellow -passengers being Mr. Hou- 
don, the artist, engaged by him and Mr. Jefferson to make 
a statue of Washino;ton for the State of Yiro-inia. The 
bishop and his family accompanied Franklin on board, and 
remained durino; the night before the vessel sailed. Find- 
ing in the morning that he was still asleep, they left with- 
out disturbing him ; and, when he awoke, he learned that the 
company was gone, and the ship under sail. 

He was not idle during the voyage. He wrote a paper 
on "Improvements in Navigation," and another "On 
Smoky Chimneys." When in the Gulf Stream, he renewed 
his experiments on the temperature of the water. After a 
voyage of forty-eight days, he arrived at Philadelphia the 
14th of September. " We landed," he says in his journal, 
"at Market-street wharf, where we were received by a 
crowd of people with huzzas, and accompanied with accla- 
mations quite to my door. Found my family well. God 
be praised and thanked for all his mercies ! " The ringing 
of bells and firing of cannon were likewise made to speak a 
welcome to the returning patriot and sage. 



XII. 

Welcomes from public bodies soon followed the outburst 
of popular affection and enthusiasm. From the Assembly 
of Pennsylvania, the American Philosophical Society, and 
the University, he received addresses, to which he sent 
suitable replies. Washington wrote him the assurance that 
no one " could salute him with more sincerity or pleasure " 
than ho. Franklin was now very pleasantly situated in his 
domestic relations, and there was every temptation for him 
to withdraw from public affairs. "I am got into my niclie.^^ 
he writes, "after being kept out of it twenty-four years by 
foreign employments. It is a very good house, that I built 
long ago to retire into, without being able till now to enjoy 
it. I am again surrounded by my friends, with a fine fam- 
ily of grandchildren about my knees, and an affectionate, 
good daughter and son-in-law to take care of me. And, 
after fifty years' public service, I have the pleasure to find 
the esteem of my country with regard to me undiminished." 



100 MEMOIR, OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

But he was not allowed to remain long aloof from public 
business. In a few days after bis return, he was elected a 
member of the Supreme Executive Council of Pennsylvania, 
and in October he was cliosen President of the State, as the 
executive was styled under the old constitution. He filled 
this office through the three successive years which the 
constitution allowed, receiving on his first election all the 
votes of the Legislature except one, and at the two subse- 
quent elections a unanimous vote. Entertaining a theory 
that in a republican government there should be no emolu- 
ments attached to office, he devoted his salary as president 
to public purposes. Having been elected one of the dele- 
gates from Pennsylvania to the convention for forming the 
constitution of the United States, which met at Philadel- 
phia, May 1787, he objected in that body to the incorpo- 
ration of the salary principle in the constitution. "There 
are two passions," he said, "which have a powerful influ- 
ence in the affiiirs of men. These are ambition and avarice ; 
the love of power and the love of money. Separately, each 
of these has great force in prompting men to action ; but, 
when united in view of the same object, they have in many 
minds the most violent effects. Place before the eyes of 
such men a post of honor, that shall at the same time be a 
place of profit^ and they will move heaven and earth to 
obtain it." The country's experience has proved the truth 
of this : but where shall we find a remedy ? 

Eranklin made no pretensions to oratory ; and when he 
spoke it was with as much simplicity as pith. ' ' The 
examples of Washington, Eranklin and Jefferson," says 
John Adams, "are enough to show that silence and reserve 
in public are more efficacious than argumentation or ora- 
tory." Where other signal qualities of character and mind 
are manifested by the individual, the absence of the oratori- 
cal accomplishment may not be an obstacle to success ; but 
it must ever be an added charm and power. Eranklin 
introduced a motion into the convention for daily prayers, 
but it was not adopted. He made the following memorable 
remarks in its support : 

" In the beginning of the contest with Britain, when we were sensible 
of danger, we had daily prayers in this room for the divine protection. 
Our prayers, sir, were heard ; and they were graciously answered. All 



PRIVATE CLAIMS. 101 

of us, who "wcve engaged in the struggle, must hare observed frequent 
instances of a superintending Providence in our favor. To that kind Prov- 
idence we owe this happy opportunity of consulting in peace on the means 
of eotablishing our future national felicity. And have we now forgotten 
that powerful Friend ? or do we imagine we no longer need His assistance , 
I have lived, sir, a long time ; and, the longer I live, the more convincing 
pi'oofs I see o^'tliis truth, that God governs in the affairs of men. And, 
if a sparrow cannot fall to the ground without his notice, is it probable 
that an empire can rise without his aid ? We have been assured, sir, in 
the sacred writings, that ' except the Lord build the house, they labor in 
vain that build it.' I firmly believe this ; and I also believe, that, with- 
out His concurring aid, we shall succeed in this political building no bet- 
ter than the builders of Babel ; we shall be divided by our little, partial, 
local interests, our projects will be confounded, and we ourselves shall be- 
come a reproach and a by- word down to future ages. And, what is worse, 
mankind may hereafter, from this unfortunate instance, despair of estab- 
lishnig government by human wisdom, and leave it to chance, war and 
conquest. I therefore beg leave to move, that henceforth prayers, implor- 
ing the assistance of Heaven and its blessing on our delilierations, be held 
in this assembly every morning before we proceed to business ; and that 
one or more of the clergy of this city be requested to officiate in that ser- 
vice. ' ' 

There were some features in the constitution of the 
United States, as finally adopted, which Franklin would 
have had different. He was in favor of an executive council 
rather than a single officer as the head of the government ; 
and he was opposed to salaries. But, in his speech at the 
close of the convention, he said : "I consent to this consti- 
tution because I expect no better, and because I am not 
sure that it is not the best. The opinions I have had of its 
errors I sacrifice to the public good. I have never whis- 
pered a syllable of them abroad." " Much of the strength 
and efficiency of any government, in procuring and securing 
happiness to the people, depends on opinion^ on the general 
opinion of the goodness of that government, as well as of the 
wisdom and integrity of its governors. I hope, therefore, 
for our own sakes, as a part of the people, and for the sake 
of our posterity, that we shall act heartily and unanimously 
in recommending this constitution, wherever our influence 
may extend, and turn our future thoughts and endeavors to 
the means of havins; it tvell athrilnisteredy 

From the commencement of the government, the inatten- 
tion of Congress to private claims has been a by-word of 
reproach. Not even the illustrious services of Benjamin 
Franklin could exempt him from the habitual fate of public 
creditors. To use his own words, "Though an active man, ho 
9* 



102 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN IRANKLIN. 

had never gone tlirougli so much business during eight years, 
in any part of his life, as during those of his residence in 
France, between his seventy-second and eightieth years. Be- 
fore his departure for that country, he had put all the money 
he could raise — between three and four thousand pounds — 
into the hands of Congress, thus demonstrating his confidence, 
and encouraging others to lend their money in support of 
the cause. He made no bargain for appointments, but was 
promised, by a vote, the net salary of five hundred pounds 
sterling per annum, his expenses paid, and to be assisted 
by a secretary, who Avas to have one thousand pounds per 
annum, to include all contingencies." Many services, not 
appertaining to the office of plenipotentiary, were performed 
by Franklin in France ; such as judge of admiralty, consul, 
and banker in examining and accepting bills of exchange. 
His accounts were audited by Mr. Barclay, the agent ap- 
pointed by Congress ; but certain reasonable claims for 
extra services and assistance were left unadjusted. He re- 
peatedly requested the attention of Congress to these claims, 
but without success. He was the more anxious, inasmuch 
as some malevolent persons had insinuated that he Avas 
largely indebted to government, and that he avoided a settle- 
ment. It was a matter of chagrin to him, to the last, that 
his appeals for justice were not heeded ; and it remains a 
stigma upon the fair fame of the old Congress, as well as 
of the first under the new constitution, that these claims 
"were never adjusted. 

In the year 1788, Franklin wrote a paper, entitled a 
" Comparison of the Conduct of the Ancient Jews and the 
Anti-Federalists of the United States,'' a satire upon the 
assailants of the new constitution ; also some scientific 
papers, and a portion of his autobiography. In 1T89 he 
wrote a long memoir relative to the Academ.y, now the 
University, of Pennsylvania, and a satirical paper on the 
Abuses of the Press. He drew up a " Plan for Im.proving 
the Condition of the Free Blacks," and wrote an Address to 
the Public from the " Pennsylvania Society for Promoting 
the Abolition of Slavery," of which society he was presi- 
dent. He was also president of a '• Society for Alleviating 
the Miseries of Public Prisons." His last published paper 
appeared in the Federal Gazette of March 25, 1790, over 



ESTEEM FOR WSHINGTON. 103 

the signature of " Historicus," and purported to be a 
speech delivered in the Divan of Algiers, 1687, by a 
member of that council, against the petition of a sect called 
Erika^ who prayed for the abolition of slavery. It was 
a parody upon a speech in support of negro slavery by Mr. 
Jackson, member of Congress from Georgia, and is re- 
markable as showing that Franklin's intellectual faculties 
had not deteriorated in his eighty-fourth year. His last 
public act was the signing, as president of the Abolition 
Society, a memorial to Congress. His last letter of which 
any copy has been preserved — and, from its date, probably 
the last which he wrote — is one addressed, nine days be- 
fore his decease, to Jefferson, the Secretary of State, upon 
the subject of the North-eastern Boundary. It is indicative 
of a mind unnnpaired in clearness and strength. 

A friendship, founded upon the sincerest mutual esteem, 
appears to have existed between Frardvlin and Washington. 
"I must soon quit this scene," writes the former, in 1780, 
to the latter ; " but you may live to see our country flourish, 
as it will, amazingly and rapidly, after the war is over; 
like a field of vouns: Indian corn, w^hich Ions; fliir weather 
and sunshine had enfeebled and discolored, and which in 
that weak state, by a thunder-gust of violent wind, hail and 
rain, seemed to be threatened with absolute destruction ; yet 
the storm being past, it recovers fresh verdure, shoots up 
with double vigor, and delights the eye, not of its owner 
only, but of every observing traveller." A comparison 
this which would have graced the lips of Nestor and the 
page of Homer ! '• General Washington is the man," writes 
Franklin in 17S8, to his friend Veillard, at Passy, "that 
all our eyes are fixed on for president; and what little 
influence I may have is devoted to him." After bequeath- 
ing, in the codicil to his will, his "fine crab- tree walking- 
stick, with a gold head curiously wrought in the form of 
the cap of liberty," to Washington, Franklin adds, w^ith one 
of his felicitous turns of expression, "If it w^ere a sceptre, 
he has merited it, and would become it." "I am now," he 
writes September 16, 1789, to Washington, "finishing my 
eighty-fourth year, and probably with it my career in this 
life ; but, in whatever state of existence I am placed here- 
after, if I retain any memory of what has passed here, I 



104: me:\ioir of benjamin franklin. 

sliall witli it retain the esteem, respect and aifection, wliich 
have long been, mj dear friend, yours, most sincerely." 
To which Washington, with unwonted warmth and earnest- 
ness of expression, replies : "If to be venerated for benevo- 
lence, if to be admired for talents, if to be esteemed for 
patriotism, if to be beloved for philanthropy, can gratify 
the human mind, you must have the pleasing consolation to 
know that you have not lived in vain. And I flatter my- 
self that it will not be ranked among the least grateful 
occurrences of your life to be assured that, so long as I 
retain my memory, you will be recollected with respect, 
veneration and affection, by your sincere friend, George 
Washington." 

Very beautiful is the spectacle of the closing years of 
Franklin's long and laborious life. Though not without his 
share of physical infirmities, he retained his lively interest 
in public affairs, his warm social and domestic sympathies, 
his amenity and serenity of temper, his active and vigorous 
intellect, his abiding faith in another and a better life. He 
seems to have realized the wish expressed in another's be- 
half by Wordsworth : 

" Thy tliouglits and feelings sliall not die, 
Noi' leave thee, when gray hairs are nigh, 

A melancholy slave; 
But an old age serene and bright. 
And lovely as a Lapland night. 

Shall lead thee to thy grave." 

His correspondence at this time, in the vivacity, humor, 
justness of thought, and happy reliance on Providence, which 
it exliibits, is a model of style and mood. To a friend in 
London he writes. May 18, 1787: "When I consider how 
many terrible diseases the human body is liable to, I 
comfort myself that only three incurable ones have Mien 
to my share, namely, the gout, the stone and old age ; and 
that these have not yet deprived me of my. natural cheerful- 
ness, my delight in books, and enjoyment of social conver- 
sation." In tlie next paragraph, alluding to a friend who 
had been lately married, he says: "After all, wedlock is 
the natural state of man. A bachelor is not a complete 
human being. He is like the odd half of a pair of scissors, 
which has not yet foand its fellow, and therefore is not even 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 105 

half so usefal as they might be together." Writing to 
George Whatlev May 18, 1787, he says : " You are now 
seventy-eight and I am eighty-two ; you tread fast upon 
my heels ; but, though you have more strength and spirit, 
you cannot come up with me till I stop, which must now 
bo soon; for I am grown so old as to have buried most of 
the friends of my youth, and I now often hear persons whom 
I knew when children called old JNIr. Such-a-one, to dis- 
tino-uish them from their sons, now men o-rown and in 
business ; so that, by living twelve years beyond David's 
period. I seem to have intruded myself into the company of 
posterity, when I ought to have been abed and asleep. Yet 
had I gone at seventy it would have cut off twelve of the 
most active years of my life, employed too in matters of the 
greatest importance ; but whether I have been doing good 
or mischief is for time to discover. I only know that I 
intended well, and I hope all will end well." 

To a friend in France he writes, November 13, 1789 : 
"It is now more than a year since I have heard from my 
dear friend Le Hoy. What can be the reason 'I Are you 
still livinii; ? Or have the mob of Paris mistaken the head 
of a monopolizer of knowledge for a monopolizer of corn, 
and paraded it about the streets? " And then, gliding from 
gay to grave, he adds : " Great part of the news we have 
had from Paris, for near a year past, has been very afflicting. 
I sincerely wish and pray it may all end well and happy, 
botli for the king and the nation." 

To the Rev. John Lothrop, Boston, he writes, May 31, 
17S8, hopefully and prophetically of the progress of man- 
kind, morally and physically. " I have been long im- 
pressed,'' he says, "with the same sentiments you so well 
express of the growing felicity of mankind, from the im- 
provements in philosophy, morals, politics and even the con- 
veniences of common living, and the invention and acquisi- 
tion of new and useful utensils and instruments ; so that I 
have sometimes almost wished it had been my destiny to be 
born two or three centuries hence. For invention and 
improvement are prolific, and beget more of their kind." 
Shall we believe that this divine thirst for knowledge, which 
age could not diminish, has ended at the tomb, and that the 
great discoveries of the last half-century are a blank to the 



106 MEMOIR 0^ BENJAMIN FRANKLm. 

intellect wliich was their bold precursor, finding delight in 
kindred triumphs of mind over matter ? 

" The style of his letters ^ in general," says Lord Jeffrey, 
''is excellent. They are chiefly remarkable for great sim- 
plicity of language, admirable good sense and ingenuity, 
and an amiable and inoffensive cheerfulness, that is never 
overclouded or eclipsed." " There is something extremely 
amiable in old age, when thus exhibited without querulous- 
ness, discontent or impatience, and free, at the same time, 
from any affected or unbecoming levity." Not only the 
style of his letters, but of all his published compositions, is a 
model of plain and unaffected diction, exhibiting an affluence 
of thought with great economy of words. There is some- 
times a pithy sententiousness in his expressions, by which 
his meaning is conveyed with wonderful precision and ex- 
pansion ; as where, in allusion to the declaratory act of the 
British Parliament, asserting the right to tax Americans, 
he says : "I will freely spend nineteen shillings in the 
pound to defend my right of giving or refusing the other 
shilling ; and, after all, if I can not defend that right, I will 
retire cheerfully with my little family into the. boundless 
woods of America, which are sure to afford freedom and 
subsistence to any man who can bait a hook or pnll a 
trigger.''^ Of his philosophical writings, Sir Humphrey 
Davy says : " A singular felicity of induction guided all his 
researches, and by very small means he established very 
grand truths. The style and manner of his publication on 
Electricity are almost as worthy of admiration as the doc- 
trine it contains. He has endeavored to remove all mystery 
and obscurity from the subject. He has written equally for 
the uninitiated and for the philosopher ; and he has rendered 
his details amusing as well as perspicuous, elegant as well 
as simple. Science appears in his language in a dress 

* Although the number of his letters in existence is sufficient to show 
that his epistolary industry was remarkable, some of the most valuable 
have been lost. When he "went to France, he left a chest of papers with 
Mr. Joseph Galloway (of whom see a mention, page 39), Mr. G. joined 
the enemy, leaving the papers in Philadelphia ; and they were rifled and 
scattered during the occupation of that city by the British. Franklin's 
own house was occupied by the enemy at the time ; and his books and 
some other articles were carried off. 



PHYSICAL INFIRMITIES. 107 

wonderfully decorous, the best adapted to display her native 
loveliness." 

To his sister, Mrs. Mecom, his letters exhibit invariable 
kindness and generosity. The following is but one speci- 
men out of many of the substantial nature of his attentions. 
Under date of November 4, 1787, he writes: '' Your bill is 
honored. It is impossible for me always to guess w-hat you 
may want, and I hope, therefore, that you will never be shy 
in letting me know wherein I can help to make your life 
more comfortable." Even in his charities, he seems to have 
had an eye to utility in making them stretch as far as pos- 
sible. While in France, Mr. Nixon, an English clergyman, 
prisoner on parole, applied to him for pecuniary aid. 
Franklin sent him a permission to draw on him for five loii'is 
d ors, remarking, ■' Some time or other you may have an 
opportunity of assisting with an equal sum a stranger who 
has equal need of it. Do so. By that means you will dis- 
charge any obligation you may suppose yourself under to 
me. Enjoin him to do the same on occasion. By pur- 
suing such a practice, much good may be done with little 
money. Let kind offices go round. Mankind are all of a 
family." 

Inheriting from healthy and temperate parents a constitu- 
tion favorable to longevity, he attended carefully to the 
laws of health, and, until the period of his residence in 
France, took abundant exercise in the open air. " Dr. 
Franklin," says John Adams, in his diary at Passy, -''upon 
my saying, the other day, that I fancied he did not exercise 
so much as he was wont, answered, ' Yes, I walk a league 
every day in my chamber ; I walk quick, and for an hour, 
so that I go a league; I make a point of religion of it.' " 
It is believed, how^ever, that the confinement required hj 
his official duties led to diseases which abbreviated his life, 
and prevented its reaching his fiither's term of eighty -nine 
years. He was afflicted with gout, to which supervened, in 
1782, a severe calculous complaint; and, with occasional 
intermissions, they became so severe as to confine him, the 
last twelve months of his life, almost constantly to his bed. 
In the letter to President Washington already quoted from, 
he says : ' ' For my own personal ease, I should have diec 
two years ago ; but, though those years have been passec 



108 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

in excruciating pain, I am pleased that I have lived them, 
since they have brought me to see our present- situation." 
" Hitherto this long life has been tolerably happy," he writes, 
March 2, 1789, to Mrs. Greene, "so that, if I were allowed 
to live it over again, I would make no objection, only wish- 
inor for leave to do, what authors do in a second edition of 
their works, correct some of my errata.'''' 

He was symmetrically and compactly formed, though 
latterly inclining to corpulency. His height was five feet 
nine or ten inches. His features were an index of the good 
temper, amenity, cheerfulness and affability, which were his 
characteristics. John Adams represents him as taciturn on 
committees and in Congress. In society he was tar from 
being loquacious ; but no one possessed a more entertaining 
fund of conversation, or used it more happily on fitting 
occasions. Childhood, that " best detector of a gentle 
heart," was ever welcome to his knee. For the young his 
manners and his words of sage advice and pleasantry had an 
indescribable charm. Sir Samuel Romilly, when a young 
man, called on him at Passy (1782), with a friend. " Dr. 
Franklin," he writes, "was indulgent enough to converse 
a good deal with us, whom he observed to be young men 
very desirous of improving by his conversation. Of all tlie 
celebrated persons whom, in my life, I have chanced to see, 
Dr. F., both from his appearance and his conversation, 
seemed to me the most remarkable. His venerable, patri- 
archal appearance, the simplicity of his m^anners and lan- 
guage, and the novelty of his observations, — at least, the 
novelty of them at that time to me, — impressed me with an 
opinion of him as one of the most extraordinary men that 
ever existed." 

In April, 1790, his illness had so increased that the con- 
stant attendance of his physician, Dr. John Jones, was 
required. John Adams mentions a report that, in the 
opinion of Franklin's " own able physician. Dr. Jones, he 
fell a sacrifice, at last, not to the stone, but to his own 
theory, having caught the violent cold which finally choked 
him, by sitting for some hours at a window, with the cool 
air blowing upon him." Dr. Jones published an account 
of Franklin's last illnesS; in which he makes no mention 



LAST ILLNESS. 109 

of any such fact. We subjoin the following extracts from 
it: 

" The stone, with which he had been afflicted for several 
years, had. for the last twelve months of his life, confined 
him chiefly to his bed ; and, during the extremely painful 
paroxysms, he was obliged to take large doses of laudanum, 
to mitigate his tortures. Still, in the intervals of pain, he 
not only amused himself by reading and conversing cheer- 
fully with his family and a few friends who visited him, but 
was often employed in doing business of a public as well as 
of a private nature, with various persons who waited upon 
him for that purpose ; and, in every instance, displayed not 
only the readiness and disposition to do good which were 
the distinsiuishino; characteristics of his life, but the fullest 
and clearest possession of his uncommon abilities. He also 
not unfrequently indulged in those jeua: d' esprit and enter- 
taininor anecdotes which were the delight of all who heard 
them. 

" About sixteen days before his death, he was seized with 
a feverish disposition, without any particular symptoms 
attending it, till the third or fourth day, when he complained 
of a pain in his left breast, which increased till it became 
extremely acute, attended by a cough and laborious breath- 
ing. During this state, when the severity of his pains drew 
forth a groan of complaint, he would observe that he was 
afraid he did not bear them as he ought : acknowledging his 
grateful sense of the many blessings he had received from 
the supreme Being, who had raised him from small and low 
beginnino's to such hiuh rank and consideration nmoni*; 
men ; and made no doubt but that his present afflictions 
were kindly intended to wean him from a world in which he 
was no longer fit to act the part assigned him. In this 
frame of body and mind he continued until five days before 
his death, when the pain and difficulty of breathing entirely 
left him, and his family were flattering themselves with the 
hopes of his recovery ; but an imposthume, which had 
formed in his lungs, suddenly burst, and discharged a 
quantity of matter, which he continued to throw up while 
he had power ; but, as that failed, the organs of respiration 
became gradually oppressed ; a calm, lethargic state suc- 
ceeded ; and on the 17th instant (April 1790), about 
10 



110 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

eleven o'clock at night, he quietly expired, closing a long 
and useful life of eighty-four years and three months." 

" The evening of his life," says Dr. Rush, "was marked 
by the same activity of his moral and intellectual powers 
which distino-uished its meridian. His conversation with 
his family upon the subject of his dissolution was free and 
cheerful. A few days before he died, he rose from his bed, 
and begged that it might be made up for him, so that he 
' might die in a decent manner.' His daughter told him 
that she hoped he would recover, and live many years longer. 
He calmly replied, 'I hope not.' Upon being advised to 
change his position in bed, that he might breathe easy, he 
said, ' A dying man can do nothing easy.' " 

His attached friend, Mrs. Hewson, once Mary Stevenson, 
daughter of his London landlady, was " the faithful witness 
of the closing scene." and has left an interesting account 
of it. "No repining," she says, "no peevish expression, 
ever escaped him during a confinement of two years, in 
which, I believe, if every moment of ease could be added 
together, the sum would not amount to two whole months. 
When the pain was not too violent to be amused, he em- 
ployed himself with his books, his pen, or in conversation 
with his friends ; and upon every occasion displayed the 
clearness of his intellect and the cheerfulness of his temper. 
Even when the intervals from pain were so short that his 
words were frequently interrupted, I have known him to 
hold a discourse in a sublime strain of piety." " I shall 
never forget one day that I passed with our friend last 
summer. I found him in bed in great agony, but when that 
agony abated a little I asked if I should read to him. He 
said Yes ; and the first book I met with was Johnson's 
' Lives of the Poets.' I read the life of Watts, who was a 
favorite author with Dr. Franklin ; and, instead of lulling 
him to sleep, it roused him to a display of the powers of his 
memory and his reason. He repeated several of Watts 's 
'Lyric Poems,' and descanted upon their sublimity in a 
strain worthy of them and of their pious author. It is 
natural for us to wish that an attention to some ceremonies 
had accompanied that religion of the heart which I am con- 
vinced Dr. Franklin always possessed ; but let us, who feel the 
benefit of them, continue to practise them, without thinking 



INSCRIPTION AND EPITAPH. Ill 

lightly of that pietj -which could support pain without a 
murmur, and meet death without terror," 

He had expressed a wish in his will that his body should 
be buried •• with as little expense or ceremony as may be." 
The funeral took place the 21st of April, and was attended 
by the members of the city and state governments, the 
various societies of the city, and some twenty thousand citi- 
zens. The bells were muffled and tolled ; flags displayed at 
half-mast ; and the consignment of the body to the earth 
was signalized by peals of artillery. His remains lie in the 
north-west corner of Christ Church Cemetery, in the city of 
Philadelphia, by the side of those of his wife. " I wish to 
be buried," he writes in his will, "by the side of my wife, 
if it may be : and that a marble stone, to be made by Cham- 
bers, six feet long, four feet wide, plain, with only a small 
moulding round the upper edge, and this inscription : 

Benjamin ) 

AND > Franklin. 
Deborah ) 

178- 

to be placed over us both." His modest wishes have been 
fulfilled. So well hidden is this grave at the present day, 
that we have known many native Philadelphians who could 
not direct one to the place. 

The following epitaph, the metaphor in which, though 
not original, has never before been so well expressed, was 
written by Franklin when he was about twenty-three years 
of age : 

" The Body 

of 

Benjamin Franklin, 

Printer 

(Like the cover of an old book. 

Its contents torn out, 

And stript of its lettering and gilding) , 

Lies here, food for worms. 

But the work itself shall not be lost. 

For it will, as he believed, appear once more. 

In a new and more elegant edition, 

Revised and corrected 

by 
The Author." 



112 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

Cons;ress, wliich Avas in session at New York, took suit- 
able notice of Franklin" s death ; and. on motion of Mr 
Madison, resolved that the members should wear the cus- 
tomary badge of mourning for one month, ''as a mark of 
veneration due to the memory of a citizen whose native 
genius was not more an ornament to human nature than his 
various exertions of it have been precious to science, to free- 
dom and to his country." In France high honors were 
paid. Condorcet eulogized him in the Academy, and Mira- 
beau from the tribune of the National Assembly. "Anti- 
quity," said the latter, "would have erected altars to this 
great and powerful genius." 

In his will, after distributing his property and various 
memorials among his kindred =^- and friends, and the 
societies of which he was a m. ember, Franklin left one 
thousand pounds to the city of Philadelphia, and the same 
sum to the town of Boston, to be put at interest and loaned 
in small sums to young married mechanics. Tbe advan- 
tages which he anticipated from these be(|uests have not 
been fully realized. The Philadelphia legac^^ is now worth 
about twenty thousand dollars ; the Boston legacy had 
accumulated in 1853 to the sum of fifty-four thousand two 
hundred and eighty dollars, and will reach, it is estimated, 
in 1891 (one hundred years from the time the bequest was 
made), the sum of four hundred thousand dollars, if the 
average rate of interest continues the same as for the last 
twenty years. Another donation, of about one hundred 
pounds, to the town of Boston, to be expended in the 
purchase of silver medals for the most meritorious pupils in 
the public schools, has been fruitful of good. The "Frank- 
lin medals" are still annually bestowed; and show that 
the testator could have devised no mode better suited to 
keep his memory green in the minds of the youth attending 
the free schools, to which he himself " owed his first in- 
structions in literature." 

* There is not now any male descendant of Franklin bearing his name. 
His grandson, William Temple Franklin, died without issue. His daugh- 
ter Sarah married Ptichard Bache in 1767, and their descendants are 
numerous, six out of seven marrying, namely, Benjamin Franklin Bache, 
who married Margaret Marcoe ; "William, who married Catharine Wistar; 
Deborah, Wm. J. Duane ; Richard, a daughter of Alexander J. Dallas ; 
Sarah, Thomas Sargeant. 



CHARACTER AND OCCUPATIONS. 113 

The prudential maxims, quoted or originated by Franklin 
jn his Almanac, have given an erroneous impression in re- 
gard to his character. If he commended frugality, it was 
because through that virtue the ' ' glorious privilege of being 
independent" might be attained. "A penny saved is a 
penny earned" was but introductory to the maxim, "Spare, 
that you may sh^re." He exercised a wise generosity 
whenever he had an opportunity to enlarge the comforts or 
improve the condition of his countrymen. His devotion to 
scientific pursuits was entirely free from a mercenary antici- 
pation. It does not appear that he ever received from 
them any other returns than of " empty praise ; " and yet 
they must have involved a great sacrifice of time, that 
might have been converted into lucre. When he invented 
his stove, he refused a patent, from which he might have 
derived a handsome annual income, and gave it freely to 
the public. He sought no profit Avhatever from his pub- 
lished writings, and indicated a singular carelessness in 
I'egard to them. He was continually devising some plan 
for advancing the comfort and general interests of his fellow- 
men ; at one time establishing a subscription library, and 
then a hospital : now forming the first fire-engine company 
in the country, and then a philosophical society : now in- 
troducing the yellow willow-tree for making baskets, and 
then the agricultural use of plaster ; now establishing an 
academy, and then suggesting an improvement in common 
sewers : now harnessing the lightning, and then contriving 
a copying machine ; now studying the best mode of paving 
streets, and then planning the union of the Colonies ; now 
su^o-estinn; to navig-ators a mode of testing- the water of the 
Gulf Stream, and then devising a cure for smoky chimneys. 
It would be difficult to give a complete enumeration of all 
his contributions to the cause of science and civilization. 
Alluding to his present of some Rhenish grape-vines to jMr. 
Quincy, John Adams says: "Thus, he (Franklin) took 
the trouble to hunt over the city, and not finding vines 
there, he sends seventy miles into the country, and then 
sends one bundle by water, and, lest they should miscarry. 
Another by land, to a gentleman whom he owed nothing to 
and was but little acquainted with, purely for the sake of 
doing good in the world by propagating the Rhenish vines 
10^ 



114 MExMOIR OF benja:>iin traxklin. 

through these provinces This is an instance, too, of 

his amazing capacity for business, his memory and resolu- 
tion. Amidst so much business, as counsellor, postmaster, 
printer, so many private studies, and so many public avoca- 
tions, too, to remember such a ti'ansient hint, and exert 
himself so in answer to it, is surprising."' The same writer 
says in his Diary, that when in London he (John Adams) 
went over Blackfriar's Bridge to see Viny's manufacture of 
patent wheels made of bent timber; and he adds: " Viny 
values himself much upon his mechanical invention ; is loud 
in praise of Franklin, who first suo-gested to him the hint 
of a bent wheel. Franklin once told me he had seen such 
a wheel in Holland before he set Yiny to work.'' 

The same time given to advancing his own fortunes, that 
he gave to advancing the general welfare and prosperity of 
his fellow-men, would have made Franklin a much richer 
man than he ever lived to be. "Franklin, with all his 
abilities,"' says Leigh Hunt, "is but at the head of those 
who think that man lives by bread alone.'' A grosser 
misconception of character was never formed. No man 
ever did more by his example than Franklin to show the 
worthlessness of mere sensual, compared with moral and in- 
tellectual welfare. Rising from very humble beginnings, 
he early felt the worth of diligence and economy in his 
business. But he was never so engrossed in it that he 
could not give a good share of his time to literary, scientific, 
musical and social enjoyments, and to public affairs. Hav- 
ing attained a moderate competence, he withdrew from 
active business, and accepted employments of a public 
nature, the emoluments of wdiich were comparatively insig- 
nificant. "While in England, music and science were the 
occupations of his leisure. He invented the Harmonica, 
gave musical parties, and pursued his electrical studies with 
a self-sacrificing zeal. His conceptions of the high destiny 
of man constantly exercised upon him their elevating effect : 
and he w^ould speak with enthusiasm of his anticipations of 
studying the works of the Creator in other worlds and 
modes of being, and of conferring with the great and good 
Df all ages and climes. 

If we take Franklin's own dry and brief account of his 
days of courtship, we must grant that he seems to have 



FRANKLIjq^ AS A LOVER. 115 

been deficient in the chivalrous sentiment which we look 
for in a lover. In his nineteenth year he '"made some 
courtship" to Miss Read; but, when he Avent to England, 
he "forgot by degrees his engagements" to her, and she 
married another. Some years afterwards he made " serious 
courtship " to a young lady who had been recommended to 
him by his friend Mrs. Godfrey. But, before venturing 
upon an engagement, he apprized the parents that he 
expected, with his bride, money enough to pay off an encum- 
brance upon his printing-office, amounting to about a hun- 
dred pounds. The parents demurred, and he abandoned his 
suit, and turned his attention elsewhere. But the business 
of a printer being looked on with distrust, he soon found 
(he tells us) that he "was not to expect money with a 
wife," unless with such a one as he "should not otherwise 
think agreeable." The tender passion must have had little 
sway with him at this time, if it could thus be elevated or 
depressed according to the graduation of his bride's dowry. 
Let us judge him, however, by the record of his acts, rather 
than of his words. Franklin returned to his first love, and 
married her in spite of many obstacles; and she proved "a 
good and faithful helpmate." 

His playful letter,^ in his old age, to Madame Helvetius, 
in which he imagines a visit to the Elysian Fields, where 
he found his departed wife the mate of Madame' s departed 
husband, though pervaded by an elegant pleasantry, has 
been quoted as showing that the sentiment which sanctifies 
connubial affection, and which would have been proof 
against a thought of levity, was wanting in his case. But 
Franklin was a humorist, and, when he gave play to the 
imaginative faculty, it took the direction of humorous fable 
or anecdote. If, as his French biographers assert, he seri- 
ously made proposals of marriage to Madame Helvetius, he 
could hardly have made a more gallant retreat, after her 
rejection of his suit, than under the cover of that ingenious 
apologue. Towards this lady he seems to have entertained 
a regard which was deep and genuine, and not without a 
rose-tint of romance. When upwards of eighty, he wrote 
to her from Philadelphia : "I stretch my arms towards you, 

* See page 90. 



116 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

in spite of the immensity of ocean that separates us, and 
await that celestial kiss which I firmly hope, one day, tc 
give you ! " In a letter about a year before he died, to the 
Abbe Morellet, he alludes to her as " the good lady whom 
we all love, and whose remembrance I shall cherish while a 
breath of life remains." * 

With regard to Franklin's religious views, we have a 
very exphcft statement in his letter of March 9, 1790, to 
President Stiles, of Yale College, from which it would 
appear that Franklin's creed did not materially differ from 
that of the Humanitarians of the present day. In this letter 
he says : 

"You desire to know something of my religion. It is 
the first time I have been questioned upon it. But I cannot 
take your curiosity amiss, and shall endeavor in a few words 
to gratify it. Here is my creed : I beheve in one God, the 
creator of the universe. That he governs it by his provi- 
dence. That he ought to be worshipped. That the most 
acceptable service we render to him is doing good to his 
other children. That the soul of man is immortal, and will 
be treated with justice in another life respecting its conduct 

* Mrs. John Adams dined with Madame IlelTetins in 17^, at Dr. 
Franklin's, and has left her impressions of the lady in a letter to a friend, 
from which the following is a passage : " She entered the room with a 
careless, jaunty air. Upon seeing ladies who were strangers to her, she 
bawled out, ' Ah, mon Dieu ! where is Franklin ? Why did you not tell 
me tlicre were ladies here ? ' You must suppose her speaking all this in 
French. ' How I look ! ' said she, taking hold of a chemise made of tif- 
fony, which she had on over a blue lutestring, and which looked as much 
updn the decay as her beauty, — for she was once a handsome woman. 
Her hair was frizzled ; over it she had a small straw hat, with a dirty- 
gauze half-handkerchief round it, and a bit of dirtier gauze than ever my 
maids wore was bowed on behind. She had a black gauze scarf thrown 
over her shoulders. She ran out of the room ; when she returned, the 
Doctor entered at one door, she at the other ; upon which she ran for- 
ward to him, caught him by the hand, ' Helas, Franklin ! ' then gave 
him a double kiss, one upon each cheek, and another upon his forehead. 
When we went into the room to dine, she was placed between the Doctor 
and 'Sir. Adams. She carried on the chief of the conversation at dinner, 
frequently locking her hand into the Doctor's, and sometimes spreading 
her arms upon the backs of both the gentlemen's chairs, then throwmg 
her arm carelessly upon the Doctor's neck. I should have been greatly 
astonished at this conduct, if the good Doctor had not told me that in this 
lady I should see a genuine Frenchwoman, wholly free fi'om atfectation or 
stilfness of behavior, and one of the best women in the world. For this I 
must take the Doctor's word." 






HIS RELIGIOUS VIEWS. 117 

in this. These I take to be the fundamental points in all 
sound religion, and I regard them as you do, in ^yhatever 
sect I meet -^ith them. As to Jesus of Nazareth, mj opin- 
ion of Avhom you particularly desire, I think his system of 
morals and his religion, as he left them to us, the best the 
Avorla ever saw or is like to see; but I apprehend it has 
received various corruptmg changes, and I have, with most 
of the present dissenters in England, some doubts as to his 
divinity ; though it is a question I do not dogmatize upon, 
having never studied it, and think it needless to busy my- 
self with it now, when I expect soon an opportunity of 
knowing the truth with less trouble. I see no harm, however, 
in its being believed, if that belief has the good consequence, 
as probably it has, of making his doctrines more respected 
and more observed ; especially as I do not perceive that the 
Supreme takes it amiss by distinguishing the believers, in 
his government of the world, with any peculiar marks of his 
displeasure. I shall only add respecting myself, that, hav- 
ing experienced the goodness of that Being in conducting 
me prosperously through a long life, I have no doubt of its 
continuance in the next, though without the smallest con- 
ceit of meriting such goodness. My sentiments on this 
head you will see in the copy of an old letter enclosed."* 

Even in the adoption of his religious views, Franklin 
seems to have been biased by his habitual regard for utility 
as the primary good. Finding, at an early period of his 
experience, that men destitute of religious convictions were 
unreliable, treacherous and sensual, he came to consider 
morality as essential to social and individual well-being, and 
religion as essential to morality : hence he found in the 
necessities of human nature a warrant for both. He was 
penetrated with a vital and abiding conviction of the great 
realities of a special Providence, and the immortality of the 
soul. Expressions that frequently occur in his familiar let- 
ters and public speeches indicate that his belief in the 
agency of Deity in the affairs of nations and individuals, 
his cheerful certainty in regard to another and a better 
: world, were habits of mind the influence of which was pow- 
erful and constant. Regarding this state of existence as one 

* Supposed to be that to George Whitefleld, page 412. 



118 MEMOIR OF BENJAMIN FBANKLIN. 

of preparatory discipline for another, he looked forward 
with delight to enlarged opportunities of studying the works 
of the Creator. " It is to me," he writes, in his eighty- 
first year, "a comfortable reflection, that, since we must 
live forever in a future state, there is a sufiicient stock of 
amusement in reserve for us to be found in constantly 
learning something new to eternity, the present quantity of 
human ignorance infinitely exceeding that of human 
knowledge. ' ' 

Of historical theology he seems to have known little. In 
a letter dated July 18, 1T84, he writes of having asked 
information of the Pope's Nuncio, " whether a Protestant 
bishop might not be ordained by the Catholic in America." 
The answer was such as few readers will fail to anticipate : 
" The thing is impossible." 

As a philanthropist, Franklin was bold, consistent, active, 
and greatly in advance of his age. From his Quaker 
brethren in Philadelphia he contracted all their zeal in be- 
half of humanity, although in his mind it put on the aspect 
of plain, practical beneficence. He was ever foremost in 
all humane enterprises. He was never misled, through 
sympathy with a majority, into the support of measures 
which, though popular, were inconsistent with a high-toned 
Christian morality. He was the champion of the Indians 
when to advocate their cause was to displease the many. 
He was one of the earliest opponents of the slave-trade and 
slavery. He omitted no opportunity to protest against war 
and its iniquity, and he branded as piracy the custom of 
privateering, however sanctioned by international usage. 
As a statesman and philosopher, his fame is imperishable. 
As an active benefactor of his race, he is entitled to its last- 
ing gratitude. As one of the founders of the American 
Union, he must ever be held in honorable remembrance by 
all who prize American institutions. As the zealous foe to 
oppression in all its forms, he merits the thankful regard of 
good men of all ages and climes. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

OF 

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 



CHAPTER I.* 



Genealogy — Birth — The Folgers — School-days — Boyish Sports and 
Scrapes — His Parents — Fondness for Reading — Apprenticed to his Broth- 
er as a Printer — AVrites Street Ballads — Disputes with Collins — Ex- 
ercises in Composition — Tries a Vegetable Diet — Critical Speculations — 
Employed on a JS^ewspaper — AYrifces for it Anonymously — 111 treated by 
his Brother — Attack on the Liberty of the Press — Leaves his Brother — 
Starts for New York — Not getting Work there, he goes to Philadelphia. 

I HAVE ever had a pleasure in obtaining any little anecdotes 
of my ancestors. You may remember the inquiries I made 
among the remains of my relations when you were with me in 
England, and the journey I undertook for that purpose. Im- 
agining it may be equally agreeable to you to learn the circum- 
stances of my life, many of which you are unacquainted with, and 
expecting the enjoyment of a few weeks' uninterrupted leisure, I 
sit down to write them. Besides, there are some other induce- 
ments that excite me to this undertaking. From the poverty 
tnd obscurity in which I was born, and in which I passed my 
earliest j^ears, I have raised myself to a state of affluence and 
some degree of celebrity in the world. As constant good for- 
tune has accompanied me even to an advanced period of life, 
my posterity will perhaps be desirous of learning the means 
which I employed, and which, thanks to Providence, so well 
succeeded with me. They may also deem them fit to be imitated, 
should any of them find themselves in similar circumstances. 

This good fortune, when I reflect on it, which is frequently 
the case, has induced me sometimes to say, that, if it were left 

* For the convenience of the reader, the Autobiography is aivided into 
chapters. The first part, which closes with the fourth chapter, was addressed, 
in the form of a letter, from Twyford, the seat of the Bishop of St. Asaph, 
to Franklin's son, Wm. Franklin, Governor of New Jersey. It bears date 
1771. 



120 franklin's select works. 

to my choice, I should have no objection to go over the same 
life from its beginning to the end ; requesting only the advantage 
authors have of correcting in a second edition the ftiults of the 
first. So would I also vrish to change some incidents of it, for 
others more fiivorable. Notwithstanding, if this condition was 
denied, I should still accept the offer of re-commencing the same 
life. But, as this repetition is not to be expected, that which 
resembles most living one's life over again seems to be to recall 
all the circumstances of it; and, to render this remembrance 
more durable, to record them in writing. In thus employing my- 
self, I shall yield to the inclination, so natural to old men, of 
talking of themselves and their own actions ; and I shall indulge 
it without being tiresome to those who, from respect to my age, 
might conceive themselves obliged to listen to me, since they 
will be always free to read me or not. 

And, lastly (I may as well confess it, as the denial of it 
would be believed by nobody), I shall perhaps not a little gratify 
my own vanity. Indeed, I never heard or saw the introductory 
words, " Without vanity I may say," &c., but some vain thing 
immediately followed. Most people dislike vanity in others, 
whatever share they have of it themselves ; but I give it fair 
quarter wherever I meet with it, being persuaded that it is often 
productive of good to the possessor, and to others who are with- 
in his sphere of action ; and therefore in many eases it would 
not be altogether absurd, if a man were to thank God for his 
vanity among the other comforts of life. And now I speak of 
thanking God, I desire with all humility to acknowledge that I 
attribute the mentioned happiness of my past life to his divine 
providence, which led me to the means I used, and gave the suc- 
cess. My belief of this induces me to hope, though I must not 
presume, that the same goodness will still be exercised towards 
me in continuing that happiness, or enable me to bear a ftital 
reverse, which I may experience as others have done; the com- 
plexion of my future fortune being known to Him only, in whose 
power it is to bless us, even in our afflictions. 

Some notes, which one of my uncles, who had the same curi- 
osity in collecting family anecdotes, once put into my hands, 
furnished me with several particulars relative to our ancestors. 
From these notes I learned, that they lived in the same village, — 
Ecton, in Northamptonshire, — on a freehold of about thirty acres, 
for at least three hundred years, and how much longer could 
not be ascertained. 

This small estate would not have sufficed for their mainte- 
nance without the business of a smith, which had continued in the 



HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 121 

family down to my uncle's time, the eldest son being always 
brought up to that employment; a custom which he and my 
father followed with re2;ard to their eldest sons. When I searched 
the registers at Ectou, I found an account of their marriages 
and burials from the year 1555 only, as the registers kept did 
not commence previous thereto. I, however, learned from it 
that I was the youngest son of the youngest son for five genera- 
tions back. My grandfather, Thomas, who was born in 1598, lived 
at Ecton till he was too old to continue his business, when he 
retired to Banbury, in Oxfordshire, to the house of his son flohn, 
with whom my father served an apprenticeship. There my 
uncle died and lies buried. We saw his grave-stone in 1758. 
His eldest son Thomas lived in the house at Ecton, and left it 
with the land to his only daughter, who, with her husband, one 
Fisher of Wellingborough, sold it to Mr. Isted, now lord of the 
manor there. My grandfiither had four sons, who grew up ; 
namely, Thomas, John, Benjamin, and Josiah. Being at a dis- 
tance from my papers, I will give you what account I can of 
them from memory ; and, if my papers are not lost in my 
absence, you will find among them many more particulars. 

Thomas, my eldest uncle, was bred a smith under his father, 
but, being ingenious, and encouraged in learning, as all his 
brothers were, by an Esquire Palmer, then the principal inhabit- 
ant of that parish, he qualified himself for the bar, and became 
a considerable man in the county ; was chief mover of all pub- 
lic-spirited enterprises for the county or town of Northampton, 
as well as of his own village, of which many instances were re- 
lated of him ; and he was much taken notice of and patronized 
by Lord Halifax. He died in 1702, the 6th of January ; four 
years, to a day, before I was born. The recital which some 
elderly persons made to us of his character, I remember, struck 
you as something extraordinary, from its similarity with what 
you knew of me. " Had he died," said you, " four years later, 
on the same day, one might have supposed a transmigration." 

John, my next uncle, was bred a dyer, I believe of wool. 
Benjamin was bred a silk-dyer, serving an apprenticeship in 
London. He was an ingenious man. I remember, when I was 
a boy, he came to my father's in Boston, and resided in the 
house with us for several years. There was always a particular 
affection between my father and him, and I was his godson. 
He lived to a great age. He left behind him two quarto 
volumes of manuscript, of his own poetry, consisting of fugitive 
pieces addressed to his friends. He had invented a short-hand 
of his own, which he taught me, but, not having practised it, I 

11 



122 franklin's select works. 

have now ibrgottcn it. He was very pious, aud an assiduoa^ 
attendant at the sermons of the best preachers, which he re- 
duced to writing according to his method, and had thus collect- 
ed several volumes of them. He was also a good deal of a poli- 
tician ; too much so, perhaps, for his station. There fell lately 
into my hands, in London, a collection he had made of all the 
principal political pamphlets relating to public aifairs, from the 
year 1641 to 1717. Many of the volumes are wanting, as ap- 
pears by their numbering ; but there still remain eight volumes 
in folio, and twenty in quarto and in octavo. A dealer in old 
books had met with them, and, knowing me by nan>e, having 
bought books of him, he brought them to me. It would appear 
that my uncle must have left them here when he went to 
America, which was about fifty years ago. I found several of 
his notes in the margins. His grandson, Samuel Franklin, is 
still living in Boston.^ 

Our humble family earl}^ embraced the reformed religion. 
Our forefathers continued Protestants through the reign of 
Mary, when they were sometimes in danger of persecution, on ac- 
count of their zeal against Popery. They had an English Bible, 
and, to conceal it and place it in safety, it was fastened open 
with tapes under and within the cover of a joint stool. When 
my great-grandfather wished to read it to his family, he placed 
the joint stool on his knees, and then turned over the leaves 
under the tapes. One of the children stood at the door to give 
notice if he saw the apparitor coming, who was an officer of the 
gpiritual court. In that case the stool was turned down again 
upon its feet, when the Bible remained concealed under it as 
before. This anecdote I had from Uncle Benjamin. The family 
continued all of the Church of England till about the end of 
Charles the Second's reign, when some of the ministers that had 
been outed for their non-conformity holding conventicles in 
Northamptonshire, my Uncle Benjamin and my father Josiah 
adhered to them, and so continued all their lives. The rest of 
the family remained with the Episcopal Church. 

My father married young, and carried his wife with three 
children to New-England, about 1685. The conventicles being 
at that time forbidden by law, and frequently disturbed in the 
meetings, some considerable men of his acquaintances determined 
to go to that country, and he was prevailed with to accompany 
i-iiem thither, where they expected to enjoy the exercise of their 
leligiou with freedom. By the same wife my father had four 
children more born there, and by a second ten others ; in all 

* His descendants are still livino; there. 



HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 123 

seventeen ; of whom I remember to have seen thirteen sitting 
together at his table, who all grew up to years of maturity and 
were married. I was the youngest son, and the youngest of all 
the children except two daughters. I was b ^rn in Boston, in 
New England.^ My mother, the second wife of my father, was 
Abiah Folger, daughter of Peter Folger, one of the first settlers 
of New Enghmd ; of whom honorable mention is made by Cot- 
ton Mather in his ecclesiastical history of that country, entitled 
Magnolia Christi Americana^ as " a godly and learned Eng- 
lishman," if I remember the words rightly. I was informed 
he wrote several small occasional works, but only one of them 
was printed, which I remember to have seen several years since. 
It was written in 1675. It was in familiar verse, according to 
the taste of the times and the people, and addressed to the 
government there. It asserts the liberty of conscience, in be- 
half of the Anabaptists, the Quakers, and other sectaries that 
had been persecuted. He attributes to this persecution the 
Indian wars and other calamities that had befallen the country ; 
regarding them as so many judgments of Grod to punish so 
heinous an offence, and exhorting the repeal of those laws, so 
contrary to charity. This piece appeared to me as written with 
manly freedom, and a pleasing simplicity. The six last lines. I 
remember, but have forgotten the preceding ones of the stanza ;t 
the purport of them was, that his censures proceeded from good 
will, and therefore he would be known to be the author : 

* In Milk-street, January 17th, or 6th, Old Stj'le. A granite store now 
occupies the site, having the inscription " Bii'thplace of Franklin." 
Franklin's father occupied subsequently a house corner of Hanover and 
Union street.'?, which is sometimes claimed as entitled to the distinction of 
Benjamin's birthplace. 

•f They are as follow: 

" I am for peace, and not for war, 

And that 's the reason why 
I write moi'e plain than some men do, 

That use to daub and lie. 
But I shall cease, and set my name 

To what I here insert; 
Because to be a libeller," &c. 

Peter was no poet. He wrote sad doggerel, notwithstanding his descend- 
ant's indulgent opinion. The Folgers seem to have been a somewhat un- 
polished race. " They are wonderfully shy," writes Franklin to his sister, 
August, 1789. " Eut I admire their honest plainness of speech. About a 
year ago I invited two of them to dine with me; their answer was, that 
they would, if they could not do better, I suppose they did better; for I 
never saw them afterwards, and so had no opportunity of showing my milf, 
if I had one." 



12-i FRANKLI2^"S SELECT WORKS. 

" Because to be a libeller 
I hate it with my heart. 
From Sherbon Town where now I dwell, 

My name I do put here ; 
"Without offence your real friend, 
It is Peter Folger." 

My elder brothers were all put apprentices to different trades. 
I was put to the grammar school at eight years of age ; my father 
intending to devote me, as the tithe of his sons, to the service of 
the church. My early readiness in learning to read, — which must 
have been very early, as I do not remember when I could not 
read, — and the opinion of all his friends that I should certainly 
make a good scholar, encouraged him in this purpose of his. 
My Uncle Benjamin too approved of it, and proposed to give me 
his short-hand volume of sermons to set up with, if I would 
learn his short-hand. I continued, however, at the grammar 
school rather less than a year, though in that time I had risen 
gradually from the middle of the class of that year to be at the 
head of the same class, and was removed into the next class, 
whence I was to be placed in the third at the end of the year. 

But my father, burdened with a numerous family, was unable 
without inconvenience to support the expense of a college educa- 
tion. Considering, moreover, as he said to one of his friends in 
my presence, the little encouragement that line of life afforded 
to those educated for it, he gave up his first intentions, took me 
from the grammar school, and sent me to a school for writing 
and arithmetic, kept by a then famous man, Mr. George Brown- 
well. He was a skilful master, and successful in his profession, 
employing the mildest and most encouraging methods. Under 
him I learned to write a good hand pretty soon ; but I failed 
entirely in arithmetic. At ten years old I was taken to help 
my father in his business, which was that of a tallow-chandler 
and soap-boiler ; a business to which he was not bred, but had 
assumed on his arrival in New England, because he found that 
his dyeing trade, being in little request, would not maintain his 
family. Accordingly, I was employed in cutting wicks for the 
candles, filling the moulds for cast candles, attending the shop, 
going of errands, &c. I disliked the trade, and had a strong 
inclination to go to sea ; but my father declared against it. But, 
residing near the water, I was much in it and on it. I learned 
to swim well and to manage boats ; and, when embarked with 
other boys, I was commonly allowed to govern, especially in any 
case of difficulty ; and upon other occasions I was generally the 
leader among the boys, and sometimes led them into scrapes, of 



HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 125 

which I will mention one instance, as it shows an early project- 
ing public spirit, though not then justly conducted. 

There was a salt marsh, which bounded part of the mill-pond, 
on the edge of which, at high water, we used to stand to fish for 
minnows. By much trampling we had made it a mere quag- 
mire. My proposal was to build a wharf there for us to stand 
upon ; and I showed my comrades a large heap of stones, which 
were intended for a new house near the marsh, and which would 
very well suit our purpose. Accordingly in the evening, when 
the workmen were gone home, I assembled a number of my play- 
fellovf^s, and we worked diligently like so many emmets, some- 
times two or three to a stone, till we brouo'ht them all to make 
our little wharf The next morning, the workmen were sur 
prised at missing the stones which had formed our wharf. In- 
quiry was made after the authors of this transfer ; we were dis- 
covered, complained of, and corrected by our fathers; and, 
though I demonstrated the utility of our work, mine convinced 
me that that which was not honest could not be truly useful. 

I suppose you may like to know what kind of a man my father 
was. He had an excellent constitution, was of a middle stature, 
well set, and very strong. He could draw prettily, and was 
skilled a little in music. His voice was sonorous and agreeable, 
so that when he played on his violin, and sung withal, as he was 
accustomed to do after the business of the day was over, it was 
extremely agreeable to hear. He had some knowledge of me- 
chanics, and on occasion was very handy with other tradesmen's 
tools. But his great excellence was his sound understanding, 
and his solid judgment in prudential matters, both in private 
and public aflairs. It is true he was never employed in the lat- 
ter, the numerous family he had to educate, and the straitness 
of his circumstances, keeping him close to his trade ; but I re- 
member well his being frequently visited by leading men, who 
consulted him for his opinion in public aiFairs, and those of the 
church he belonged to ; and who showed a great respect for his 
judgment and advice. He was also much consulted by private 
persons about their afitairs, when any difficulty occurred, and 
frequently chosen an arbitrator between contending parties. 

At his table he liked to have, as often as he could, some 
sensible friend or neighbor to converse with ; and always took 
care to start some ingenious or useful toj^ic for discourse, which 
might tend to improve the minds of his children. By this means 
he turned our attention to what was good, just and prudent, in 
the conduct of life ; and little or no notice was ever taken of 
what related to the victuals on the table ; whether it was well or 
11* 



t26 franklin's select works. 

ill dressed, in or out of season, of good or bad flavor, preferable 
or inferior to this or that other thing of the kind*; so that I was 
brought up in such a perfect inattention to those matters, as to 
be quite indifferent what kind of food was set before me. In- 
deed, I am so unobservant of it, that to this day I can scarce 
tell, a few hours after dinner, of what dishes it consisted. This 
has been a great convenience to me in travelling, where my 
companions have been sometimes very unhappy for want of a 
suitable gratification of their more delicate, because better in- 
structed, tastes and appetites. 

My mother had likewise an excellent constitution ; she spck td 
all her ten children. I never knew either my father or 
mother to have any sickness, but that of which they died ; he at 
eighty-nine, and she at eighty-five years of age. They lie 
buried together at Boston, where I some years since placed a 
ii»a«'ble over their grave, with this inscription : 

JOSIAH FRANKLIN 

and 

ABIAH his wife 

Lie here interred. 

They lived lovingly together in wedlock. 

Fifty-five years ; 

And without an estate, or any gainful employment. 

By constant labor, and honest industry 

(With God's blessing). 

Maintained a large family comfortably ; 

And brought up thirteen children and seven grandchildren 

Reputably. 

From this instance, reader. 

Be encouraged to diligence in thy calling. 

And distrust not Providence. 

He was a pious and prudent man. 

She a discreet and virtuous woman. 

Their youngest son. 

In filial regard to their memory. 

Places this stone. 

J. F. born IGoo; died 17-14. ^Et. 89. 

A. F. born 1GC7; died 1752. ^t. 85.* 

By my rambling digressions, I perceive myself to be grown 
old. I used to write more methodically. But one does not 
dress for private company as for a public ball. Perhaps it ih 
only negligence. 

To return : I continued thus employed in my father's business 
for two years, — that is, till I was twelve years old ; and my 
brother John, who was bred to that business, having left my 

* The marble having become dilapidated, the citizens of Boston replaced 
it in 1827 by a granite obelisk. 



HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 127 

father, married, and set up for himself at Rhode Island, there 
was every appearance that I was destined to supply his place, 
and become a tallow-chandler. But my dislike to the trade 
continuing, my father had apprehensions that, If he did not put 
me to one more agreeable, I should break loose and go to sea, 
as my brother Josiah had done, to his great vexation. In con- 
sequence, he took me to walk with him, and see joiners, brick- 
layers, turners, braziers, &c., at their work, that he might ob- 
serve my inclination, and endeavor to fix it on some trade or 
profession that would keep me on land. It has ever since been 
a pleasure to me to see good workmen handle their tools. And 
it has been often useful to me to have learned so much by it 
as to be able to do some trifling jobs In the house when a work- 
man was not at hand, and to construct little machines for my 
experiments at the moment when the intention of making these 
was warm in my mind. My father determined at last for the 
cutler's trade, and placed me for some days on trial with 
Samuel, son to my Uncle Benjamin, who was bred to that trade 
in London, and had just established himself in Boston. But 
the sum he exacted as a fee for my apprenticeship displeased 
ray father, and I was taken home again. 

From my Infancy I was passionately fond of reading, and all 
the mone}^ that came into my hands was laid out In the purchas- 
ing of books. I was very fond of voyages. My first acquisi- 
tion was Bunyan's works in separate little volumes. I after- 
wards sold them to enable me to buy B. Burton's Histor'ical Col- 
lectio?is. They were small chapmen's books, and cheap ; forty 
volumes in all. My father's little library consisted chiefly of 
books In polemic divinity, most of which I read. I have often 
regretted that, at a time when I had such a thirst for knowl- 
edge, more proper books had not fallen in my way, since it was 
resolved I should not be bred to divinity. There was among 
them Plutarch's Lives, which I read abundantly, and I still 
think that time spent 'to great advantage. There was also a 
book of Defoe's, called An Essay on Projects, and another of 
Dr. Mather's, called An Essay to do Good, which perhaps gave 
me a turn of thinking that had an influence on some of the 
principal future events of my life. This bookish inclination at 
length determined my father to make me a printer, though he 
had already one son, James, of that profession. 

In 1717 my brother James returned from England with a 
press and letters, to set up his business in Boston. I liked it 
much better than that of my father, but still had a hankering 
for the sea. To prevent the apprehended efiect of such an in- 



128 fkanklin's select work-;. 

clination, my father was impatient to have me bound to mj 
brother. I stood out some time, but at last was persuaded and 
signed the indenture, when I was yet but twelve years old. I 
was to serve an apprenticeship till I was twenty-one years of 
age, only I was to be allowed journeymen's wages during the 
last year. In a little time I made a great progress in the busi- 
ness, and became a useful hand to my brother. I now had 
access to better books. An acquaintance with the apprentices of 
booksellers enabled me sometimes to borrow a small one, which 
I was careful to return soon, and clean. Often I sat up hi my 
chamber readhig the greatest part of the night, when the book 
was borrowed in the evening and to be returned in the morning, 
lest it should be found missing. 

After some time, a merchant, an ingenious, sensible man, Mr. 
Matthew Adams, who had a pretty collection of books, fre- 
quented our printing-office, took notice of me, and invited me 
to see his library, and very kindly proposed to lend me such 
books as I chose to read. I now took a strong inclination for 
poetry, and wrote some little pieces. My brother, supposing it 
might turn to accomit, encouraged me, and induced me to com- 
pose two occasional ballads. One was called The Light House 
Tragedy, and contained an account of the shipwreck of Captain 
Worthilake with his two daughters; the other was a sailor's 
song, on the taking of the famous Teach, or Blackbeard the 
pirate. They were wretched stuff, in street-ballad style; and 
when they were printed, my brother sent me about the town to 
sell them. The first sold prodigiously, the event being recent, 
and having made a great noise. This success flattered my 
vanity ; but my father discouraged me by criticizing my per- 
formances, and telling me verse-makers were generally beggars. 
Thus I escaped being a poet, and probably a very bad one ; but, 
as prose writing has been of great use to me in the course of my 
life, and was a principal means of my advancement, I shall tell 
you how in such a situation I acquired what little ability I may 
be supposed to have in that way. 

There was another bookish lad in the town, John Collins by 
name, with whom I was intimately acquainted. We sometimes 
disputed, and very fond we were of argament, and very desirous 
of confuting one another ; which disputatious turn, by the way, 
is apt to becomo a very bad habit, making people often extreme) j 
disagreeable in company, by the contradiction that is necessary 
to bring it into practice ; and thence, besides souring and spoil- 
ing the conversation, it is productive of disgusts, and perhaps 
enmities, with those who may have occasion for friendship. I 



HIS AUTOBIOGHAPIIY. 12^ 

had cnuglit tliis by reading my father's books of dispute on re- 
ligion. Persons of good sense, I have since observed, seldom fall 
into it, except lawyers, university men, and generally men of all 
sorts who have been bred at Edinburgh. 

A question was once, somehow or other, started between 
Collins and me, on the propriety of educating the female sex 
in learning, and their abilities for study. He was of opinion 
that it was improper, and that they were naturally unequal to 
it. I took the contrary side, perhaps a little for dispute's sake. 
He was naturally more eloquent, having a greater plenty of 
words ; and sometimes, as I thought, I was vanquished more by 
his fluency than by the strength of his reasons. As we parted 
without settling the point, and were not to see one another again 
for some time, I sat down to put my arguments in writing, which 
I copied fair and sent to him. He answered, and I replied. 
Three or four letters on a side had passed, when my father hap- 
pened to find my papers and read them. Without entering into 
the subject in dispute, he took occasion to talk to me about my 
manner of writing ; observed, that though I had the advantage of 
my antagonist in correct spelling and pointing (which he attributed 
to the printing-house), I fell far short in elegance of expression, 
in method, and in perspicuity, of which he convinced me by 
several instances. I saw the justice of his remarks, and thence 
grew more attentive to my manner of writing, and determined 
to endeavor to improve my style. 

About this time, I met with an odd volume of the Spectator. 
I had never before seen any of them. I bought it, read it over 
and over, and was much delighted with it. I thought the writ- 
ing excellent, and wished, if possible, to imitate it. With that 
view, I took some of the papers, and making short hints of the 
sentiments in each sentence, laid them by a few days, and then, 
without looking at the book, tried to complete the papers again, 
by expressing each hinted sentiment at length, and as fully as it 
had been expressed before, in any suitable words that should 
occur to me. Then I compared my Spectator with the original, 
discovered some of my faults, and corrected them. But I found 
I wanted a stock of words, or a readiness in recollecting and 
using them, which I thought I should have acquired before that 
time, if I had gone on making verses ; since the continual 
search for words of the same import, but of different length to 
suit the measure, or of different sound for the rhyme, would 
have laid me under a constant necessity of searching for variety, 
and also have tended to fix that variety in my mind, and make 
me master of it. Therefore I took some of the tales in the 



130 fkanklin's select works. 

Spectator and turned them into verse ; and, after a time, wbeu 
I had pretty well forgotten the prose, turned them^ back again. 

I also sometimes jumbled my collection of hints into con- 
fusion, and after some weeks endeavored to reduce them into 
the best order before I began to form the full sentences and 
complete the subject. This was to teach me method in the 
arrangement of the thoughts. By comparing my work with the 
original, I discovered many faults, and corrected them ; but I 
sometimes had the pleasure to fancy that, in certain particulars 
of small consequence, 1 had been fortunate enough to improve 
the method or the language, and this encouraged me to think 
that I might in time come to be a tolerable English writer ; of 
which I was extremely ambitious. The time I allotted for writ- 
ing exercises, and for reading, was at night, or before work 
began in the morning, or on Sundays, when I contrived to be 
in the printing-house, avoiding as much as I could the constant 
attendance at public worship, which my father used to exact of 
me when I was under his care, and which I still continued to 
consider a duty, though I could not afford time to practise it. 

When about sixteen years of age, I happened to meet with a 
book, written by one Tryon, recommending a vegetable diet. 
I determined to go into it. My brother, being yet unmarried, 
did not keep house, but boarded himself and his apprentices in 
another family. My refusing to eat flesh occasioned an incon- 
venience, and I was frequently chid for my singularity. I made 
myself acquainted with Tryon's manner of preparing some of his 
dishes, such as boiling potatoes or rice, making hasty-pudding, 
and a few others, and then proposed to my brother, that if he 
would give me weekly half the money he paid for my board, I 
would board myself. He instantly agreed to it, and I presently 
found that I could save half what he paid me. This was an 
additional fund for buying of books ; but I had another advan- 
tage in it. My brother and the rest going from the printing- 
house to their meals, 1 remained there alone, and, despatching 
presently my light repast (which was often no more than a 
biscuit, or a slice of bread, a handful of raisins, or a tart from 
the pastry cook's, and a glass of water), bad the rest of the 
time, till their return, for study ; in which I made the greater 
progress from that greater clearness of head, and quicker ap- 
prehension, which generally attend temperance in eating and 
drinking. Now it was, that, being on some occasion made 
ashamed of my ignorance in figures, which I had twice failed 
learning when at school, I took Cocker's book on Arithmetic, 
and went through the whole by myself with the greatest ease 



HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 131 

I also read Seller's and Sturny's book on Navigation, which 
made me acquainted with the little geometry it contains, but I 
never proceeded far in that science. I read about this time 
Locke on Human Urderstanding, and The Art of Thinking by 
Messrs. de Port-Royal. 

While I was intent on improving my language, I met with an 
English Grammar (I think it was Greenwood's), having at the 
end of it two little sketches on the Arts of Rhetoric and Logic, 
the latter finishing with a dispute in the Socratic method. And, 
soon after, I procured Xenophon's Memorable Things of 
Socrates, wherein there are many examples of the same method. 
I was charmed with it, adopted it, dropped my abrupt contra- 
diction and positive argumentation, and put on the humble in- 
quirer. And being then, from reading Shaftesbury and Collins, 
made a doubter, as I already was in many points of our religious 
doctrines, I found this method the safest for myself, and very 
embarrassing; to those ag-ainst whom I used it : therefore I took 
delight in it, practised it continually, and grew very artful and 
expert in drawing people, even of superior knowledge, into con- 
cessions the consequences of which they did not foresee, entan- 
gling them in difficulties out of which they could not extricate 
themselves, and so obtaining victories that neither myself nor 
my cause always deserved. 

I continued this method some few years, but gradually left it, 
retaining only the habit of expressing myself in terms of modest 
difiidence, never using, when I advance anything that may 
possibly be disputed, the words certainly, undoubtedly, or any 
others that give the air of positiveness to an opinion ; but rather 
saying, I conceive, or apprehend, a thing to be so and so ; It 
appears to me, or / should not think it, so or so, for such and 
such reasons ; or, / imagine it to be so ; or, It is so, if I am not 
mistaken. This habit, I believe, has been of great advantage 
to me, when I have had occasion to inculcate my opinions, and 
persuade men into measures that I have been from time to time 
engaged in promoting. And as the chief ends of conversation 
are to inform or to be informed, to please or to persuade, I 
wish well-meaning and sensible men would not lessen their 
power of doing good by a positive, assuming manner, that seldom 
fails to disgust, tends to create opposition, and to defeat most 
of those purposes for which speech was given to us. Li ftict, if 
you wish to instruct others, a positive, dogmatical manner in 
advancing your sentiments may occasion opposition, and prevent 
a candid attention. If you desire instruction and improvement 
from others, you should not at the same time express yourself 



132 franklin's select works. 

fixed in your present opinions. Modest and sensible men, who 
do not love disputation, will leave you undisturbed in the pos- 
session of your errors. In adopting such a manner, you can 
seldom expect to please your hearers, or obtain the concurrence 
you desire. Pope judiciously observes, 

« Men must be taught as if you taught them not. 
And things unknown proposed as things forgot." 

He also recommends it to us 

«' To speak, though sure, with seeming diffidence." 

And he might have joined with this line that which he has 
coupled with another, I think less properly, — 

"Eor want of modesty is want of sense." 

If you ask, Why less properly? I must repeat the lines, 

" Immodest words admit of no defence, 
For want of modesty is want of sense." 

Now, is not the ivant of. sense, where a man is so unfortunate 
as to want it, some apology for his want of modesty ? And 
would not the lines stand more justly thus ? 

" Immodest words admit but this defence, 
That want of modesty is Avant of sense." 

This, however, I should submit to better judgments. 

My brother had, in 1720 or 1721, begun to print a newspaper. 
It was the second that appeared in America,^ and was called 
the New England Courant. The only one before it was the 
Boston Neius-Letter. I remember his being dissuaded by some 
of his friends from the undertaking, as not likely to succeed, one 
newspaper being in their judgment enough for America. At 
this time, 1771, there are not less than five-and-twenty. He 
went on, however, with the undertaking. I was emploj^ed to 
carry the papers to the customers, after having worked in 
composing the types, and printing oif the sheets. 

He had some ingenious men among his friends, who amused 
themselves by writing little pieces for this paper, which gained 
it credit, and made it more in demand, and these gentlemen often 
visited us. Hearing their conversations, and their accounts of 

* A mistake. The Boston Gazette and the American Weekly Mercury, of 
Philadelphia, were both of prior origin. 



HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 133 

the approbation their papers were received with, I was excited 
to try my hand among them. But, being still a boy, and sus- 
pecting that my brother would object to printing anything of 
mine in his paper, if he knew it to be mine, I contrived to dis- 
guise my hand, and, writing an anonymous paper, I put it at 
night under the door of the printing-house. It was found in the 
morning, and communicated to his writing friends, when they 
called in as usual. They read it, commented on it in my hear- 
ing, and I had the exquisite pleasure of finding it met with 
their approbation, and that, in their difierent guesses at the 
author, none were named but men of some character among us 
for learning and ingenuity. I suppose that I was rather lucky 
in my judges, and that they were not really so very good as I 
then believed them to be. Encouraged, however, by this attempt, 
I wrote and sent in the same way to the press several other 
pieces, that were equally approved ; and I kept my secret till 
all my fund of sense for such performances was exhausted, and 
then discovered it, when I began to be considered a little moro 
by my brother's acquaintance. 

However, that did not quite please him, as he thought il 
tended to make me too vain. This might be one occasion of the 
differences we began to have about this time. Though a brother, 
he considered himself as my master, and me as his apprentice, 
and accordingly expected the same services from me as he would 
from another, while I thought he degraded me too much in some 
he required of me, who from a brother expected more indul- 
gence. Our disputes were often brought before our father, and 
I fancy I was either generally in the right, or else a better 
pleader, because the judgm.ent was generally in my favor. But 
my brother was passionate, and had often beaten me, which I 
took extremely amiss ; and, thinking my apprenticeship very 
tedious, I was continually wishing for some opportunity of 
shortening it, which at length offered in a manner unexpected. 
Perhaps this harsh and tyrannical treatment of me might be a 
means of impressing me with the aversion to arbitrary power 
that has stuck to me through my whole life. 

One of the pieces in our newspaper on some political point, 
which I have now forgotten, gave offence to the Assembly. He 
was taken up, censured, and imprisoned for a month by the 
Speaker's warrant, I suppose because he would not discover the 
author. I too was taken up and examined before the Council ; 
but, though I did not give them any satisfaction, they contented' 
themselves with admonishing me, and dismissed me, considering 
me perhaps as an apprentice, who was bound to keep his master's 
12 



134 franklin's select works. 

secrets. During my brother's confinement, wliicli I resented a 
good deal, notwithstanding our private diiferences, I had the 
inaniigement of the paper ; and I made bold to give our rulers 
some rubs in it, which my brother took very kindly, while others 
began to consider me in an unfavorable light, as a youth that 
had a turn fo-r libelling and satire. 

My brother's discharge was accompanied with an order, and 
a very odd one, that " James Franklin should no longer print 
the newspaper called The New England Courant.''^ ^ On a 
consultation held in our printing-office amongst his friends, what 
he should do in this conjuncture, it was proposed to elude the 
order by changing the name of the paper. But my brother, 
seeing inconveniences in this, came to a conclusion, as a better 
way, to let the paper in future be printed in the name of Ben- 
jamin Franklin ; and, in order to avoid the censure of the As- 
sembly, that might fall on him as still printing it by his appren- 
tice, he contrived and consented that my old indenture should be 
returned to me with a discharge on the back of it, to show in 
case of necessity ; and, in order to secure to him the benefit of 
my service, I should sign new indentures for the remainder of 
my time, which were to be kept private. A very flimsy scheme 
it was ; however, it was immediately executed, and the paper 
was printed accordingly, under my name, for several months. 

At length, a fresh difference arising between my brother and 
me, I took upon me to assert my freedom ; presuming that he 
would not venture to produce the new indentures. It was not 
fair in me to take this advantage, and this I therefore reckon one 
of the first errata of my life ; but the unfairness of it weighed 
little with me when under the impressions of resentment for the 
blows his passion too often urged him to bestow upon me. 
Though he was otherwise not an ill-natured man ; perhaps I was 
too saucy and provoking. 

AVhen he found I would leave him, he took care to prevent 
my getting employment in any other printing-house of the town, 
by going round and speaking to every master, who accordingly 
refused to give me work. I then thought of going to New York, 
as the nearest place where there was a printer. And I was 
rather inclined to leave Boston, when I reflected that I had 
already made myself a little obnoxious to the governing party, 

* An unwarrantable and despotic act ; there being nothing libellous, or 
even reasonably oflensive, in any of the articles the publication of 
which in the Courant was thus resented. James Franklin removed soon 
afterwards to Newport, and established the Rhode Island Gazette^ Sept. 
1732. He died F°b. 1735. 



HIS AUTOBIOaRAPHY. 13£ 

and, from tlic arbitrary proceedings of the Assembly in my 
brother's case, it was likely I might, if I stayed, soon bring 
myself into scrapes ; and further, that my indiscreet vlisputationg 
about religion began to make me pointed at with horror by good 
people, as an infidel and atheist. I concluded, therefore, to 
remove to New York ; but my father now siding with my brother, 
[ was sensible that, if I attempted to go openly, means would 
be used to prevent me. My friend Collins, therefore, undertook 
to manage my flight. He agreed with the captain of a New 
York sloop to take me, under pretence of my being a young man 
of his acquaintance that had an intrigue with a girl of bad 
character, whose parents would compel me to marry her, and 
that I could neither appear or come away publicly. I sold my 
books to raise a little money, was taken on board the sloop 
privately, had a fair wind, and in three days found myself at 
New York, near three hundred miles from my home, at the age 
of seventeen (October 1723), without the least recommendation, 
or knowledge of any person in the place, and very little money 
in my pocket. 

The inclination I had had for the sea was by this time done 
away, or I might now have gratified it. But having another 
profession, and conceiving myself a pretty good workman, I 
offered my services to a printer of the place, old Mr. AYilliam 
Bradford, who had been the first printer in Pennsylvania, but 
had removed thence, in consequence of a quarrel with the Gov- 
ernor, George Keith. He could give me no emploj^ment, having 
little to do, and hands enough already ; but he said, " My son 
at Philadelphia has lately lost his principal hand, Aquila Rose, 
by death; if you go thither, I believe he may employ you." 
Philadelphia was one hundred miles further ; I set out, however, 
in a boat for Amboy, leaving my chest and things to follow me 
round by sea. 

In crossing the bay, we met with a squall that tore our rotten 
sails to pieces, prevented our getting into the Kill, and drove us 
upon Long Island. In our way, a drunken Dutchman, who was 
a passenger too, fell overboard ; when he was sinking I reached 
through the water to his shock pate, and drew him up, so that 
we got him in again. His ducking sobered him a little, and he 
went to sleep, taking first out of his pocket a book, which he 
desired I would dry for him. It proved to be my old fiivorite 
author, Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, in Dutch, finely printed 
on good paper, copper cuts, a dress better than I had ever seen 
it wear in its own languao-e. I have since found that it has 
oeen translated into most of the languages of Europe, and sup- 



136 franklin's select works. 

pose it has been more generally read than any other book, 
except perhaps the Bible, Honest John was the first that I 
know of who mixed narration and dialogue ; a method of 
writino- very engaging to the reader, who, in the most interest- 
ing parts, finds himself, as it were, admitted into the company 
and present at the conversation. Defoe has imitated him suc- 
cessfully in his Robinson Crusoe, in his Moll Flanders, and 
other pieces; and Richardson has done the same in his 
Pamela, &c. 

On approaching the island, we found it was in a place where 
there could be no landing, there being a great surge on the 
stony beach. So we dropped anchor, and swung out our cable 
towards the shore. Some people came down to the shore, and 
hallooed to us, as we did to them ; but the wind was so high, 
and the surge so loud, that we could not understand each other. 
There were some small boats near the shore, and we made signs, 
and called to them to fetch us ; but they either did not compre- 
hend us, or it was impracticable, so they went ofi". Night 
approaching, we had no remedy but to have patience till the 
wind abated ; and in the mean time the boatmen and myself 
concluded to sleep, if we could ; and so we crowded into the 
hatches, where we joined the Dutchman, who was still wet, and 
the spray, breaking over the head of our boat, leaked through 
to us, so that we were soon almost as wet as he. In this manner 
we lay all night, with very little rest ; but, the wind abating the 
next day, we made a shift to reach Amboy before night ; having 
been thirty hours on the water without victuals, or any drink 
but a bottle of filthy rum ; the water we sailed on being salt. 

In the evening I found myself very feverish, and went to 
bed ; but, having read somewhere that cold water drunk plenti- 
fully was good for a fever, I followed the prescription, and sweat 
plentifully most of the night. My fever left me, and in the 
morning, crossing the ferry, I proceeded on my journey on foot, 
having fifty miles to go to Burlington, where I was told I 
should find boats that would carry me the rest of the way ta 
Philadelphia. 



^T. 17.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 137 



CHAPTEH II. 

Night at an Inn — Arrival in Philadelphia — Meets his future Wife — Tho 
rirst House he slept in — Engaged by Iveimer —Acquaintance with Gov. 
Keith — Visit to Boston — His Father's Advice — Visits his Brother JoJm 
at Newport — A Lure and an Escape — Stay in New York — An Unruly 
Companion — A Great Erratum — Big Promises and Small Fulfilment — 
An Uneasy Conscience — Abandons a Vegetable Diet — Mode of Life 
with Keimer — Courtship — Acquaintances — Trials at Composition — 
Sails for London with Ralph — Looks into the Bag for his Letters of In- 
troduction. 

It rained very hard all the day ; I was thoroughly soaked, 
and by noon a good deal tired ; so I stopped at a poor inn, 
where I stayed all night, beginning now to wish I had never 
left home. I made so miserable a figure, too, that I found, by 
the questions asked me, I was suspected to be some runaway in- 
dentured servant, and in danger of being taken up on that 
suspicion. However, I proceeded next day, and got in tho 
evening to an inn, within eight or ten miles of Burlington, kept 
by one Dr. Brown. He entered into conversation with me while 
I took some refreshment, and, finding I had read a little, became 
very obliging and friendly. Our acquaintance continued all 
the rest of his life. He had been, I imagine, an ambulatory 
quack doctor, for there was no town in England, nor any country 
in Europe, of which he could not give a very particular account. 
He had some letters, and was ingenious, but he was an infidel, 
and wickedly undertook, some years after, to turn the Bible into 
doggerel verse ; as Cotton had formerly done with Virgil. By 
this means he set many facts in a ridiculous light, and might 
have done mischief with weak minds if his work had been pub- 
lished ; but it never was. 

At his house I lay that night, and arrived the next morning 
at Burlington ; but had the mortification to find that the regu- 
lar boats were gone a little before, and no other expected to go 
before Tuesday, this being Saturday. Wherefore I returned to 
an old woman in the town, of whom I had bought some ginger- 
bread to eat on the water, and asked her advice. She proposed 
to lodge me till a passage by some other boat occurred. I 
accepted her ofier, being much fatigued by travelling on foot. 
Understanding I was a printer, she would have had me remain 
in that town and follow my business ; being ignorant what stock 
was necessary to begin with. She was very hospitable, gave me 
1:J# 



138 franklin's select works. [1723. 

a dinner of ox-cheek with great good will, accepting only of a 
pot of ale in return ; and I thought myself fixed till Tuesday 
should come. However, walking in the evening by the side of 
the river, a boat came by, which 1 found was going towards 
Philadelphia, with several people in her. They took me in, and, 
as there was no wind, we rowed all the way ; and about mid- 
night, not having yet seen the city, some of the company were 
confident we must have passed it, and would row no further ; 
others knew not where we were, so we put towards the shore, 
got into a creek, landed near an old fence, with the rails of 
which we made a fire, the night being cold, in October, and 
there we remained till daylight. Then one of the company 
knew the place to be Cooper's Creek, a little above Philadelphia, 
which we saw as soon as we got out of the creek, and arrived 
there about eight or nine o'clock on the Sunday morning, and 
landed at Market-street wharf. 

I have been the more particular in this description of my 
journey, and shall be so of my first entry into that city, that 
you may in your mind compare such unlikely beginnings with 
the figure I have since made there. I was in my working dress, 
my best clothes coming round by sea. I was dirty, from my 
being so long in the boat. My pockets were stufled out with 
shirts and stockings, and I knew no one, nor where to look for 
lodging. Fatigued with walking, rowing, and the want of sleep, 
I was very hungry ; and my whole stock of cash consisted in a 
single dollar, and about a shilling in copper coin, which I gave 
to the boatmen for my passage. At first they refused it, on 
account of my having rowed ; but I insisted on their taking it. 
Man is sometimes more generous when he has little money than 
when he has plenty ; perhaps to prevent his being thought to 
have but little. 

I walked towards the top of the street, gazing about till near 
Market-street, where I met a boy with bread. I had often 
made a meal of dry bread, and, inquiring where he had bought 
it, I went immediately to the baker's he directed me to. I 
asked for biscuits, meaning such as we had at Boston ; that sort, 
it seems, was not made in Philadelphia. I then asked for a 
three-penny loaf, and was told they had none. Not knowing 
the different prices, nor the names of the different sorts of bread, 
I told him to give me three-penny worth of any sort. He gave 
me accordingly three great puffy rolls. I was surprised at the 
quantity, but took it, and, having no room in my pockets, walked 
off" with a roll under each arm, and eating the other. Thus 1 
went up Market-street as far as Fourth-street, passing by the 



^T. 17.] HIS AUTOBIOGKAPHY. 139 

door of ]Mr. Read, my future wife's father ; when she, standing 
at the door, saw me, and thought I made, as I certainly did, a 
most awkward, ridiculous appearance. Then I turned and went 
down Chestnut-street and part of Walnut-street, eating my roll 
all the way, and, coming round, found myself again at Market- 
street wharf, near the boat I came in, to which I went for a 
draught of the river water ; and, being filled with one of m,y 
rolls, gave the other two to a woman and her child that came 
down the river in the boat with us, and were waiting to go 
further. 

Thus refreshed, I walked again up the street, which by this 
time had many clean-dressed people in it, who were all walking 
the same way. I joined them, and thereby was led into the 
great meeting-house of the Quakers, near the market. I sat 
down among them, and, after looking round a while and hearing- 
nothing said, being very drowsy through labor and want of rest 
the preceding night, I fell fast asleep, and continued so till the 
meeting broke up, when some one was kind enough to rouse 
me. This, theretbre, was the first house I was in, or slept in, 
in Philadelphia. 

I then walked down towards the river, and lookino; in the 
faces of every one, I met a young Quaker man whose counte- 
nance pleased me, and, accosting him, requested he would tell 
me where a strancjer could 2;et a lodo-incr. We were then near 
the sign of the Three Mariners. " Here," said he, " is a house 
Vvhere they receive strangers, but it is not a reputable one ; if 
thee wilt walk with me, I '11 show thee a better one;" and he 
conducted me to the Crooked Billet, in Water-street. There I 
got a dinner ; and while 1 was eating, several questions were 
asked me; as, from my youth and appearance, I was suspected 
of being a runaway. 

After dinner, my host having shown me to a bed, I laid myself 
on it without undressing, and slept till six in the evening, when 
I was called to supper. I went to bed again very early, and 
slept very soundly till next morning. Then I dressed myself as 
neat as I could, and went to Andrew Bradford, the printer's. I 
found in the shop the old man his father, whom I had seen at 
New York, and who, travelling on horseback, had got to Phila- 
delphia before me. He introduced me to his son, who received 
me civilly, gave me a breakfast, but told me he did not at 
present want a hand, being lately supplied with one ; but there 
was another printer in town, lately set up, one Keimer, who 
perhaps might employ me ; if not, I should be welcome to lodge 



140 PRANKLIN's select works. [1723 

at his house, and he would give me a little work to do now and 
then, till fuller business should offer. 

The old gentleman said he would go with me to the new 
printer; and when we found him, "Neighbor," said Bradford, 
" I have brought to see you a young man of your business; 
perhaps you may want such a one." He asked me a few 
questions, put a composing-stick in my hand to see how I worked, 
and then said he would employ me soon, though he had just 
then nothing for me to do. And taking old Bradford, whom he 
had never seen before, to be one of the town's people that had a 
good will for him, entered into a conversation on his present 
undertaking and prospects ; while Bradford, not discovering 
that he was the other printer's father, on Keimer's saying he 
expected soon to get the greatest part of the business into his 
own hands, drew him on by artful questions, and starting little 
doubts, to explain all his views, what influence he relied on, and 
in what manner he intended to proceed. I, who stood by and 
heard all, saw immediately that one was a crafty old sophister, 
and the other a true novice. Bradford left me with Keimer, 
who was greatly surprised when I told him who the old man 
was. 

The printing-house, I found, consisted of an old, damaged 
press, and a small, worn-out fount of English types, which he 
was using himself, composing an Elegy on Aquila Rose, before 
mentioned ; an ingenious young man, of excellent character, 
much respected in the town, secretary to the Assembly, and a 
pretty poet. Keimer made verses too, but very indifferently. 
He could not be said to write them, for his method was to com- 
pose them in the types directly out of his head. There being 
no copy, but one pair of cases, and the Elegy probably requir- 
ing all the letter, no one could help him. I endeavored to put 
his press (which he had not yet used, and of which he under- 
stood nothing) into order to be worked with ; and, promisino; to 
come and print off his Elegy, as soon as he should have got it 
ready, I returned to Bradford's, who gave me a little job to do 
for the present, and there I lodged and dieted. A few days 
after, Keimer sent for me to print off" the Elegy. And now 
he had got another pair of cases, and a pamphlet to reprint, on 
which he set me to work. 

These two printers I found poorly qualified for their business. 
Bradford had not been bred to it, and was very illiterate ; oiid 
Keimer, though something of a schohir, was a mere compositor, 
knowing nothing of press-work. He had been one of we French 
prophets, and could act their enthusiastic agitations At this 



^T. 17. HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 141 

time he did not profess any particular religion, but something of 
all on occasion ; was very ignorant of the world, and had, as I 
afterwards found, a good deal of the knave in his composition. 
He did not like my lodging at Bradford's while I worked with 
liim. He had a house, indeed, but without furniture, so ha 
could not lodge me ; but he got me a lodging at Mr. Read's, 
before mentioned, who was the owner of his house ; and, my 
chest of clothes being come by this time, I made rather a more 
respectable appearance in the eyes of Miss Read than I had 
done when she first happened to see me eating my roll in the 
street. 

I began now to have some acquaintance among the young 
people of the town that were lovers of reading, with whom I 
spent my evenings very pleasantly; and gained money by my 
industry and frugality. I lived very contented, and forgot 
Boston as much as I could, and did not wish it should be known 
where I resided, except to my friend Collins, who was in the 
secret, and kept it faithfully. At length, however, an incident 
happened that occasioned my return home much sooner than I 
had intended. I had a brother-in-law, Robert Homes, master 
of a sloop that traded between Boston and Delaware. He being 
at Newcastle, forty miles below Philadelphia, and hearing of 
me, wrote me a letter mentioning the grief of my relations and 
friends in Boston at my abrupt departure, assuring me of their 
good will to me, and that everything would be accommodated, to 
my mind, if I would return ; to which he entreated me ear- 
nestly. I wrote an answer to his letter, thanked him for his 
advice, but stated my reasons for quitting Boston so fully, and 
in such a light, as to convince him I was not so much in the 
wrong as he had apprehended. 

Sir William Keith, governor of the province, was then at 
Newcastle, and Captain Homes, happening to be in company 
with him when my letter came to hand, spoke to him of me, and 
showed him the letter. The governor read it, and seemed sur- 
prised when he was told my age. He said I appeared a young 
man of promising parts, and therefore should be encouraged ; 
the printers at Philadelphia were wretched ones ; and, if I would 
set up there, he made no doubt I should succeed ; for his part, 
he would procure me the public business, and do me every other 
service in his power. This my brother-in-law, Homes, after- 
wards told me in Boston ; but I knew as yet nothing of it ; 
when one daj', Keimer and I being at work together near tlie 
window, we saw the governor and another gentleman (^who 
proved to be Colonel French, of Newcastle, in the province of 



112 FRANKLIN'S SELECT WORKS. [1724 

Delaware), finely dressed, come directly across the street to our 
house, and heard them at the door. 

Keimer ran down immediately, thinking it a visit to him ; but 
the governor inquired for me, came up, and, with a condescen- 
sion and politeness I had been quite unused to, made me many 
compliments, desired to be acquainted with me, blamed me 
kindly for not having made myself known to him when I first 
came to the place, and would have me away with him to the 
tavern, where he was going with Colonel French, to taste, as he 
said, some excellent madeira. I was not a little surprised, and 
Keimer stared with astonishment. I went, however, with the 
governor and Colonel French, to a tavern at the corner of Third- 
street, and over the madeira he proposed my setting up my 
business. He stated the probabilities of my success, and both 
he and Colonel French assured me I should have their interest 
and influence to obtain for me the public business of both gov- 
ernments. And, as I expressed doubts that my father would 
assist me in it. Sir William said he would give me a letter to 
him, in which he would set forth the advantages, and he did not 
doubt he should determine him to comply. So it was concluded 
I should return to Boston by the first vessel, with the gov- 
ernor's letter to my father. In the mean time it was to be kept 
a secret, and I went on working with Keimer as usual. The 
governor sent for me now and then to dine with him, which I 
considered a great honor; more particularly as he conversed 
with me in a most afl"able, familiar and friendly manner. 

About the end of April 1724, a little vessel ofi"ered for Bos- 
ton. I took leave of Keimer, as going to see my friends. The 
governor gave me an ample letter, saying many flattering things 
of me to my father, and strongly recommending the project of 
my setting up at Philadelphia, as a thing that would make my 
fortune. We struck on a shoal in going down the bay, and 
sprung a-leak; we had a blustering time at sea, and were 
obliged to pump almost continually, at which I took my turn. 
We arrived safe, however, at Boston, in about a fortnight. I 
had been absent seven months, and my friends had heard nothing 
of me ; for my brother Homes was not yet returned, and had 
not written about me. My unexpected appearance surprised 
the family; all were, however, very glad to see me, and made 
me welcome, except my brother. I went to see him at his 
printing-house. I was better dressed than ever while in his 
service, having a genteel new suit from head to foot, a watch, 
and my pockets lined with near five pounds sterling in silver. 



uET. 18.] lUS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 143 

He received me not very frankly, looked me all over, and turned 
to his work again. 

The journeymen were inquisitive where I had been, what sort 
of a country it was, and how I liked it. I praised it much, and 
the happy life I led in it, expressing strongly my intention of 
returning to it ; and, one of them asking what kind of money 
we had there, I produced a handful of silver and spread it be- 
fore them, which was a kind of raree-show they had not been 
used to, paper being the money of Boston. Then I took an 
opportunity of letting them see my watch ; and lastly (my 
brother still gruni and sullen) gave them a dollar to drink, and 
took my leave. This visit of mine offended him extremely'. 
For, when my mother some time after spoke to him of a recon- 
ciliation, and of her wish to see us on good terms together, and 
that we might live for the future as brothers, he said I had in- 
sulted him in such a manner before his people that he could 
never forget or forgive it. In this, however, he was mistaken. 

My father received the governor's letter with some surprise, 
but said little of it to me for some time. Captain Homes re- 
turning, he showed it to him, and asked him if he knew Sir 
William Keith, and what kind of man he was ; adding that he 
must be of small discretion, to think of setting a youth up in 
business who wanted three years to arrive at man's estate. 
Homes said what he could in favor of the project, but my father 
was decidedly against it, and at last gave a flat denial. He 
wrote a civil letter to Sir William, thanking him for the patron- 
age he had so kindly offered me, and declining to assist me as 
yet in setting up, I being in his opinion too young to be trusted 
with the management of an undertaking so important, and for 
which the preparation required a considerable expenditure. 

My old companion, Collins, who was a clerk in the post-office, 
pleased with the account I gave him of my new country, deter- 
mined to go thither also ; and, while I waited for my father's 
determination, he set out before me by land to lihode Island, 
leaving his books, which were a pretty collection in mathematics 
and natural pliiiosophy, to come with mine and me to New 
York ; where he proposed to wait for me. 

jMy father, though he did not approve Sir William's proposi- 
tion, was yet pleased that I had been able to obtain so advan- 
tageous a character from a person of such note where I had 
resided, and that I had been so industrious and careful as to 
equip myself so handsomely in so short a time; therefore, seeing 
no prospect of an accommodation between my brother and me, 
he gave his consent to my returning again to Philadelphia 



144 franklin's select works. [1724 

advised me to behave respectfully to the people there, endeavor 
to obtain the general esteem, and avoid lampooning and libelling, 
to which he thought I had too much inclination; tellino; me 
that by steady industry and prudent parsimony I might save 
enough, by the time I was one-and-twenty, to set me up ; and 
that if I came near the matter he would help me out with the 
rest. This was all I could obtain, except some small gifts as 
tokens of his and my mother's love, when I embarked again for 
New York ; now with their approbation and their blessing. 

The sloop putting in at Newport, Rhode Island, I visited my 
brother John, who had been married and settled there seme 
years. He received me very affectionately, for he always loved 
me. A friend of his, one Vernon, having some monej' due to him 
in Pennsylvania, about thirty-five pounds currency, desired I 
would recover it for him, and keep it till I had his directions 
what to employ it in. Accordingly he gave me an order to 
receive it. This business afterwards occasioned me a good deal 
of uneasiness. 

At Newport we took in a number of passengers, amongst 
whom were two young women travelling together, and a sensible, 
matron-like Quaker lady, with her servants. I had shown an 
obliging disposition to render her some little services, which 
probably impressed her with sentiments of good will towards 
me ; for when she witnessed the daily growing familiarity be- 
tween the young women and myself, which they appeared to 
encourage, she took me aside, and said, " Young man, I am 
concerned for thee, as thou hast no friend with thee, and seems 
not to know much of the world, or of the snares youth is ex- 
posed to ; depend upon it, these are very bad women ; I can see 
it by all their actions ; and if thee art not upon thy guard, they 
will draw thee into some danger ; they are strangers to thee, 
and I advise thee, in a friendly concern for thy welfare, to have 
no acquaintance with them." As I seemed at first not to think 
so ill of them as she did, she mentioned some things she had ob- 
served and heard, that had escaped my notice, but now con- 
vinced me she was right. I thanked her for her kind advice, 
and promised to follow it. When we arrived at New York, 
they told me where they lived, and invited me to come and see 
them ; but I avoided it, and it was well I did. For the next 
day the captain missed a silver spoon and some other things, 
that had been taken out of his cabin, and, knowing that these 
were a couple of strumpets, he got a warrant to search their 
lodgings, found the stolen goods, and had the thieves punished. 
So though we had escaped a sunken rock, which we scraped 



^T. 18.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. \ 145 

upon in the passage, I thought this escape of rather more import- 
ance to me. 

At New York I found my friend Collins, who had arrived 
there some time before me. We had been intimate from chil- 
dren, and had read the same books together ; but he had the 
advantage of more time for reading and studying, and a wonder- 
ful genius for mathematical learning, in which he far outstripped 
me. While I lived in Boston, most of my hours of leisure for 
conversation were spent with him, and he continued a sober as 
well as industrious lad ; was much respected for his learning by 
several of the clergy and other gentlemen, and seemed to promise 
making a good figure in life. But, during my absence, he had 
acquired a habit of drinking brand}' ; and I found by his own 
account, as well as that of others, that he had been drunk every 
day since his arrival at New York, and behaved himself in a 
very extravagant manner. He had gamed too and lost his 
money, so that I was obliged to discharge his lodgings, and 
defray his expenses on the road, and at Philadelphia ; which 
proved a great burden to me. 

The then Governor of New York, Burnet (son of Bishop 
Burnet), hearing from the captain that one of the passengers 
had a great many books on board, desired him to bring me tb 
see him. I waited on him, and should have taken Collins with 
me, had he been sober. The governor received me with great 
civility, showed me his library, which was a considerable one, 
and we had a good deal of conversation relative to books and 
authors. This was the second governor who had done me the 
honor to take notice of me ; and for a poor boy, like me, it was 
very pleasing. 

We proceeded to Philadelphia. I received in the way Ver- 
non's money, without which we could hardly have finished our 
journey. Collins wished to be employed in some counting- 
house ; but, whether they discovered his dram-drinking by his 
breath, or by his behavior, though he had some recommenda- 
tions, he met with no success in any application, and continued 
lodging and boarding at the same house with me, and at my 
expense. Knowing I had that money of Vernon's, he was 
continually borrowing of me, still promising repayment as soon 
as he should be in business. At length he had got so much of 
it, that I was distressed to think what I should do in case of 
being called on to remit it. 

His drinking continued, about which we sometimes quarrelled; 
for, when a little intoxicated, he was very irritable. Once, in 
a boat on the Delaware with some other young men, he refused 
o 



I-IG FRAx\KLIi!s'S SELECT WaKKS. [1724 

to row m his turu. " I will be rowed home," said he. " We 
will not row you," said I. " You must," said he, " or stay all 
night on the water, just as you please." The others said, -'Let 
us row, what signifies it ?" But, ray mind being soured with 
his other conduct, I continued to refuse. So he swore he 
would make me row, or throw me overboard ; and coming along 
stepping on the thwarts towards me, when he came up and 
struck at me, I clapped my head under his thighs, and, rising, 
pitched him head foremost into the river. I knew he was a 
good swimmer, and so was under little concern about him ; but 
before he could get round to lay hold of the boat, we had, with 
a few strokes, pulled her out of his reach ; and whenever he 
drew near the boat, we asked hiui if he would row, striking a 
few strokes to slide her away from him. He was ready to stifle 
with vexation, and obstinately would not promise to row. Find- 
ing him at last beghmiug to tire, we drew him into the boat, and 
brought him home dripping wet. We hardly exchanged a civil 
word after this adventure. At length a West India captain, 
who had a commission to procure a preceptor for the sons of a 
gentleman at Barbadoes, met with him, and proposed to carry 
him thither to fill that situation. He accepted, and promised to 
riemit me what he owed me out of the first money he should re- 
ceive ; but I never heard of him after. 

The violation of my trust respecting Vernon's money was 
one of the first great ej-rata of my life ; and this showed that 
my father was not much out in bis judgment, when he con- 
sidered me as too young to manage business. But Sir William, 
on reading his letter, said he was too prudent, that there was a 
great difference in persons ; and discretion did not always ac- 
company years, nor was youth always without it. " But, since 
he will not set you up, I will do it myself. Give me an inven- 
tory of the things necessary to be had from England, and I will 
send for them. You shall repay me when you are able ; I am 
resolved to have a good printer here, and I am sure you must 
succeed." This was spoken with such an appearance of cordial- 
ity, that I had not the least doubt of his meaning what he said. 
I had hitherto kept the proposition of my setting up a secret in 
Philadelphia, and I still kept it. Had it been known that I 
depended on the governor, probably some friend, that knew 
him better, would have advised me not to rely on him ; as I 
afterwards heard it as his known character to be liberal of 
promises, which he never meant to keep. Yet, unsolicited as 
he was by me, how could I think his generous offers insincere ? 
I believed him one of the best men in the world. 



MI. 18.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 147 

I presented him an inventory of ?., little printing-liousc, 
amounting, by my computation, to about one hundred pounds 
sterling. He liked it, but asked me if my being on the spot in 
England to choose the types, and see that everything was good 
of the kind, might not be of some advantage. " Then," said he, 
" when there, you may make acquaintance, and establish cor- 
respondences in the bookselling and stationery line." I agreed 
that this might be advantageous. " Then," said he, "get your- 
self ready to go with Annis ; " which was the annual ship, and 
the only one at that time usually passing between London and 
Philadelphia. But, as it would be some months before Annis 
sailed, I continued working with Kcimer, fretting extremely 
about the money Collins had got from me, and in great appre- 
hensions of being called upon for it by Vernon. This, howeverj 
did not hiippen for some years after. 

I believe I have omitted mentioning, that in my first voyage 
from Boston to Philadelphia, being becalmed ott" Block Island, 
our crew employed themselves in catching cod, and hauled up a 
great number. Till then, I had stuck to my resolution to eat 
nothing that had had life ; and on this occasion I considered, 
according to my master Tryon, the taking every fish as a kind 
of unprovoked murder, since none of them had nor could do us 
any injury that might justify this massacre. All this seemed 
very reasonable. But I had been formerly a great lover offish, 
and, when it came out of the frying-pan, it smelt admirably well. 
I balanced some time between principle and inclination, till 
recollecting that, when the fish were opened, I saw smaller fish 
taken out of their stomachs, then thought I, " If you eat one 
another, I don't see why we may not eat you.' So I dined 
upon cod very heartily, and have since continued to eat as other 
people ; returning only now and then occasionally to a vegetable 
diet. So convenient a thing it is to be a reasonable creature, 
since it enables one to find or make a reason lor everything 
one has a mind to do. 

Keimer and 1 lived on a pretty good familiar footing, and 
agreed tolerably well ; for he suspected nothing of ray setting 
up. He retained a great deal of his old enthusiasm, and loved 
argumentation. We therefore had many disputations. I used 
to work him so with my Socratic method, and had trepanned 
him so often by questions apparently so distant from any point 
we had in hand, yet by degrees leading to the point and bring- 
ing him into difficulties and contradictions, that at last he grew 
ridiculously cautious, and would hardly answer me the most 
eommon question, without asking first, " What do you intend to 



148 franklin's select WOliKS. [1724 

infer from that? " However, it gave him so high an opinion of 
my abilities in the confuting way, that he seriously proposed 
my being his colleague in a project he had of setting up a new 
sect. He was to preach the doctrines, and I was to confound 
all opponents. When he came to explain with me upon the 
doctrines, I found several conundrums which I objected to .un- 
less I might have -my way a little too, and introduce some of 
mine. 

Keimer wore his beard at full length, because somewhere in 
the Mosaic law it is said, " Thou shall not mar the corners of 
thy beard.'" He likewise kept the Seventh day. Sabbath ; and 
these two points were essential with him. I disliked both ; but 
agreed to them on condition of his adopting the doctrine of not 
using animal food. " I doubt," said he, " my constitution will 
not bear it." I assured him it would, and that he would be the 
better for it. He was usually a great eater, and I wished to 
give myself some diversion in half starving him. He consented 
to try the practice, if I would keep him company. I did so, 
and we held it for three months. Our provisions were pur- 
chased, cooked, and brought to us regularly by a woman in the 
neighborhood, who had from me a list of forty dishes, which 
she prepared for us at different times, in which there entered 
neither fish, flesh nor fowl. This whim suited me the better at 
this time from the cheapness of it, not costing us above eighteen 
pence sterling each per week. I have since kept several lents 
most strictly, leaving the common diet for that, and that for the 
common, abruptly, without the least inconvenience. So that, I 
think, there is little in the advice of making those changes by 
easy gradations. I went on pleasantly, but poor Keimer suf- 
fered grievously, grew tired of the project, longed for the flesh- 
pots of Egypt, and ordered a roast pig. He invited me and 
two women friends to dine with him; but, it being brought too 
soon upon the table, he could not resist the temptation, and ate 
the whole before we came. 

I had made some courtship during this time to Miss Read. 
I had a great respect and affection for her, and had some reasons 
to believe she had the same for me ; but, as I was about to take 
a long voyage, and we were both very young, — only a little 
above eighteen, — it was thought most prudent by her motter to 
prevent our going too far at present ; as a marriage, if it was to 
take place, would be more convenient after my return, when I 
should be, as I hoped, set up in my business. Perhaps too she 
thought my expectations not so well founded as I imagined 
them to be. 



iET. 18.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 149 

• My chief acquaintances at this time were Charles Osborne, 
Joseph Watson, and James Ralph ; all lovers of reading. The 
two first were clerks to an eminent scrivener or conveyancer in 
the town, Charles Brockden; the other was a clerk to a mer- 
chant. Watson was a pious, sensible young man, of great in- 
tegrity ; the others rather more lax in their principles of 
religion, particularly Kalph, who, as well as Collins, had been 
unsettled by me ; for which they both made me suffer. Osborne 
was sensible, candid, frank ; sincere and affectionate to his 
friends, but in literary matters too fond of criticism. Kalph 
was ingenious, genteel in his manners, and extremely eloquent; 
I think I never knew a prettier talker. Both were great ad- 
mirers of poetry, and began to try their hands in little pieces. 
'Many pleasant walks we have had together on Sundays in the 
woods, on the banks of the Schuylkill, where we read to one 
another, and conferred on what we had read. 

Ralph was inclined to give himself up entirely to poetry, not 
doubting that he might make great proficiency in it, and even 
make his fortune by it. He pretended that the greatest poets 
must, when they first began to write, have committed as many 
faults as he did. Osborne endeavored to dissuade him, assured 
him he had no genius for poetry, and advised him to think of 
nothing beyond the business he was bred to ; that in the 
mercantile way, though he had no stock, he might by his dili- 
gence and punctuality recommend himself to employment as a 
factor, and in time acquire wherewith to trade on his own 
account. I approved, for my part, the amusing one's self with 
poetry now and then, so far as to improve one's language, but 
no further. 

On this, it was proposed that we should each of us at our 
next meeting produce a piece of our own composing, in order to 
improve by our mutual observations, criticisms, and corrections. 
As language and expression were what we had in view, we ex- 
cluded all considerations of invention, by agreeing that the task 
should be a version of the eighteenth Psalm, which describes 
the descent of a Deity. When the time of our meeting drew 
nigh, Ralph called on me first, and let me know his piece was 
ready. I told him I had been busy, and, having little inclina- 
tion, had done nothing. He then showed me his piece for my 
opinion, and I much approved it, as it appeared to me to have 
great merit. " Now," said he, " Osborne never wul allow the 
least merit in anything of mine, but makes a thousand criticisms 
out of mere envy. He is not so jealous of you; I wish there- 
fore you would take this piece and produce it as yours ; I will 
13# 



150 franklin's select works. [1724. 

pretend not to have had time, and so produce nothing. We 
shall then hear what he will say to it." It was agreed, and I 
immediately transcribed it, that it might appear in my own 
hand. 

We met ; Vv''atson's performance was read : there were some 
beauties in it, but muny defects. Osborne's was read : it was 
much better ; Ralph did it justice ; remarked some faults, but 
applauded the beauties. He himself had nothing to produce. 
I was backward, seemed desirous of being excused, had not had 
sufficient time to correct, &c. ; but no excuse could be admitted ; 
produce I must. It was read and repeated : Watson and Osborne 
gave up the contest, and joined in applauding it. Ralph only 
made some criticisms, and proposed some amendments ; but I 
defended my text. Osborne was severe against Ralph, and tol9 
me he was no better able to criticize than compose verses. As 
these two were returning home, Osborne expressed himself still 
move strongly in favor of what he thought my production ; 
having before refrained, as he said, lest I should think he meant 
to flatter me. " But who would have imagined," said he, " that 
Franklin was capable of such a performance ; such painting, 
such force, such fire ! He has even improved on the original. 
In common conversation he seems to have no choice of words ; 
he hesitates and blunders ; and yet, good God, how he writes! " 
When we next met, Ralph discovered the trick we had played, 
and Osborne was laughed at. 

This transaction fixed Ralph in his resolution of becoming a 
poet. I did all I could to dissuade him from it, but he con- 
tinued scribbling verses till Pope cured hini.=^ He became, 
however, a pretty good prose writer. More of him hereafter. 
But, as I may not have occasion to mention the other two, I 
shall just remark here that Watson died in my arms a few years 
after, much lamented, being the best of our set. Osborne went 
to the West Indies, where he became an eminent lawyer and 

* Ralph stands pilloried to posterity in Pope's somewhat overrated 
« Dunciad " • 

" Silence, ye wolves, while Ralph to Cynthia howls, 
And makes Night hideous ; answer him, ye owls I " 

The allusion here. Pope tells us, is to " a thing " of Ralph's, entitled 
"Night." He calls him "a low writer," who praised himself in the 
journals — wholly illiterate, <fce From Franklin's account, he was evidently 
a man of little principle. This did not prevent his becoming a successful 
political writer. He was pensioned in consideration of his pamphlets in 
Bupport of the ministry. Having obtained possession of a manuscript 
belonging to Frederick, Prince of AVales, his pension was inci-eased, shortly 
before his death, 17(j2, to six hundred pounds a year, in consequence of hi3 
surrender of the manuscripts. 



^T. 18.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 151 

made money, but died joung. He and I had made a serious 
agreement, that the one who happened first to die should, if 
possible, make a friendly visit to the other, and acquaint him 
how he found things in that separat-e state. But he never 
flilfilled his promise. 

The governor, seeming to like my company, had me frequently 
at his house, and his setting me up was always mentioned as a 
fixed thing, I was to take with me letters recommendatory to 
a number of his friends, besides the letter of credit to furnish 
me with the necessary money for purchasing the press, types, 
paper, &c. For these letters I was appointed to call at difierent 
times, when they were to be ready ; but a future time was still 
named. Thus we went on till the ship, whose departure too had 
been several times postponed, was on the point of sailing. Then, 
when I called to take my leave and receive the letters, his 
secretary, Dr. Baird, came out to me, and said the governor was 
extremely busy *in writing, but would be down at Newcastle 
before the ship, and then the letters would be delivered to me. 

Ralph, though married, and having one child, had determined 
to accompany me in this voyage. It was thought he intended 
to establish a correspondence, and obtain goods to sell on 
commission ; but I found after, that, having some cause of dis- 
content with his wife's relations, he proposed to leave her on 
their hands, and never to return to America. Having taken 
leave of my friends, and exchanged promises with Miss Head, I 
quitted Philadelphia, in the ship, which anchored at Newcastle. 
The governor was there; but when I went to his lodging, his 
secretary came to me from him, with expressions of the greatest 
regret that he could not then see me, being engaged in business 
of the utmost importance ; but that he would send the letters to 
me on board, wishing me heartily a good voyage, and a speedy 
return, &c. I returned on board a little puzzled, but still not 
doubting. 

Mr. Andrew Hamilton, a celebrated lawyer of Philadelphia, 
had taken his passage in the same ship for himself and son, with 
Mr. Denham, a Quaker merchant, and Messrs, Oniam and 
Kussel, masters of an iron-work in Maryland, who had engaged 
the great cabin ; so that Ralph and I were forced to take up 
with a berth in the steerage, and, none on board knowing us, 
wej-e considered as ordinary persons. But Mr. Hamilton and 
his son (it was James, since governor) returned from Newcastle 
to Philadelphia ; the father being recalled by a great fee to 
jjlead for a seized ship. And, just before we sailed, Colonel 
French coming on board, and showing me great respect, I was 



152 FRANKLIN^S SELECT WORKS. [1724 

more taken notice of, and, with mj friend Ralph, invited bj the 
other gentlemen to come into the cabhi, there being now room. 
Accordingly we removed thither. 

Understandino; that Colonel French had brought on board the 
governor's despatches, I asked the captain for those letters that 
were to be under mj care. He said all were put into the bag 
together, and he could not then come at them ; but, before we 
landed in England, I should have an opportunity of picking 
them out; so I was satisfied at present, and we proceeded on 
our voyage. We had a sociable company in the cabin, and 
lived uncommonly well, having the addition of all Mr. Hamilton's 
stores, who had laid in plentifully. In this passage Mr. 
Denham contracted a friendship for me that continued during 
his life. The voyage was otherwise not a pleasant one, as we 
had a great deal of bad weather. 

AVhen we came into the channel, the captain kept his word 
with me, and gave me an opportunity of examining the bag for 
the governor's letters. I found some upon which my name was 
put, as under my care. I picked out six or seven, that, by the 
hand- writing, I thought might be the promised letters, especially 
as one of them was addressed to Baskett, the king's printer, 
and another to some stationer. 



CHAPTER III. 

Arrival in London — Finds his Letters are "Worthless — Intimaey Tvith Ralp'fj 
— Gets Worii in a Printing-house — Metaphysical Treatise^ — Frequents 
a Club — A Promise to see Sir Isaac Newton — Sir Hans Sloane — A 
Dangerous Acquaintance — Offends Ralph — AVatts's Printing-house — 
Press-work — Mode of Life — Hahits of London Printers — Makes a 
Reform — A Landlady and a Recluse — Swimming — Anecdote of Mr. 
Denham — New Employment — Almost a S\rimming-teacher — Sir Wil- 
liam vS^yndham. 

We a;rrived in London the 24th December, 1724. I waited 
upon the stationer, who came first in ray way, delivering the 
letter as from Governor Keith. " I don't know si«:4i a person,'* 
said he ; but, opening the letter, " O ! this is from Riddlesden. 
I have lately found him to be a complete rascal, and I will have 
nothing to do with him, nor receive any letters from him." So, 
putting the letter into my hand^ he turned on his heel and left 



MT. 18.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 153 

me to serve some customer. I was surprised to find these 
were not the governor's letters ; and, after recollecting and com- 
paring circumstances, I began to doubt his sincerity. I found 
my friend Denham, and opened the whole afi'air to him. He 
let me into Keith's character : told me there was not the least 
probability that he had written any letters for me ; that no one, 
who knew him, had the smallest dependence on him; and he 
laughed at the idea of the governor's giving me a letter of 
credit, having, as he said, no credit to give. On my expressing 
some concern about what I should do, he advised me to endeavor 
getting some employment in the way of my business. " Among 
the pointers here," said he, "you will improve yourself, and, 
when you return to America, you will set up to greater advan- 
tage." 

We both of us happened to know, as well as the stationer, 
that Kiddlesden, the attorney, was a very knave. He had half 
ruined Miss Head's father, by persuading him to be bound for 
him. By his letter it appeared there was a secret scheme on 
foot to the prejudice of Mr. Hamilton (supposed to be then 
coming over with us) ; that Keith was concerned in it, with 
Riddlesden. Denham, who was a friend of Hamilton's, thought 
he ought to be acquainted with it ; so, when he arrived in Eng- 
land, which was soon after, partly from' resentment and ill-will 
to Keith and Riddlesden, and partly from good-will to him, I 
waited on him, and gave him the letter. He thanked me 
cordially, the information being of importance to him ; and from 
that time he became my friend, greatly to my advantage after- 
wards on many occasions. 

But what shall we think of a governor playing such pitiful 
tricks, and imposing so grossly on a poor ignorant boy ? It was 
a habit he had acquired. He wished to please everybody ; and, 
having little to give, he gave expectations. He was otherwise 
an ingenious, sensible man, a pretty good writer, and a good 
governor for the people; though not for his constituents, the 
Proprietaries, whose instructions he sometimes disregarded. 
Several of our best laws were of his planning, and passed during 
his administration. 

Ralph and I were inseparable companions. We took lodgings 
together in Little Britain at three shillings and sixpence a week ; 
as much as we could then afford. He found some relations, but 
they were poor and unable to assist him. He now let me know 
his intentions of remaining in London, and that he never meant 
to return to Philadelphia. He had brought no money with him ; 
tlie whole he could muster having been expended in paying his 



154 FRANKLIN^S SELECT WOKKS. [1725. 

passage. I had jSfteen pistoles ; so he borrowed occasionally 
of me to subsist, while he was looking out for business. He 
first endeavored to get into the playhouse, believing himself 
€[ualified for an actor; but Wilkes,^ to whom he applied, advised 
him candidly not to think of that employment, as it was im- 
possible he should succeed in it. Then he proposed to Roberts, 
a publisher in Pater Noster Row, to write for him a weekly 
paper like the Spectator, on certain conditions ; which Roberts 
did not approve. Then he endeavored to get employment as a 
hackney writer, to copy for the stationers and lawyers about the 
Temple ; but could not find a vacancy. 

For myself, I immediately got into work at Palmer's, a famous 
printing-house in Bartholomew Close, where I continued near a 
year. I was pretty diligent, but I spent with Ralph a good 
deal of my earnings at plays and public amusements. We had 
nearly consumed all my pistoles, and now just rubbed on from 
hand to mouth. He seemed quite to have forgotten his wife 
and child ; and I by degrees my engagements with Miss Read, 
to whom I never wrote more than one letter, and that was to let 
her know I was not likely soon to return. This was another of 
the great errata of my life, which I could wish to correct, if I 
were to live it over again. In fact, by our expenses, I was con- 
stantly kept unable to pay my passage. 

At Palmer's I was employed in composing for the second 
edition of Yv^ollaston's " Religio7i of Nature.^'' Some of his 
reasonings not appearing to me well founded, I wrote a little 
metaphysical piece, in which I made remarks on them. It was 
entitled, " A Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure 
and Pain.''^ I inscribed it to my friend Ralph ; I printed a 
small number. It occasioned my being more considered by Mr. 
Palmer as a young man of some ingenuity, though he seriously 
expostulated with me upon the principles of my pamphlet, which 
to him appeared abominable. My printing this pamphlet was 
another erratum, V/hile I lodged in Little Britain, I made an 
acquaintance with one Wilcox, a bookseller, whose shop was 
next door. He had an immense collection of second-hand books. 
Circulating libraries were not then in use ; but we agreed that, 
on certain reasonable terms, which I have now forgotten, I might 
take, read and return, any of his books. This I esteemed a 
great advantage, and I made as much use of it as I could. 

My pamphlet by some means falling into the hands of one 
Lyons, a surgeon, author of a book entitled " The InfcdlihUity 

* A comedian of some note in bis day. 



^T. 19.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 155 

of Human Judgme.nt,^^ it occasioned an acquaintance between 
us. He took great notice of me; called on me often to converse 
on those subjects; carried me to the Horns, a pale-ale house in 

Lane, Cheapside, and introduced me to Dr. Mandeville, 

author of the " Fable of the Bees,"" who had a club there, of 
which he was the soul, — being a most facetious, entertaining com- 
panion. Lyons, too, introduced me to Dr. Pemberton, at Bat- 
son's CoJSee-hoiise, who promised to give me an opportunity, 
some time or other, of seeing Sir Isaac Newton, of which I was 
extremely desirous ; but this never happened. 

I had brought over a few curiosities, among whicK the princi- 
pal was a purse made of the asbestos^ which purifies by fire. Sir 
Hans Sloane heard of it, came to see me, and invited me to his 
house in Bloomsbury -square, showed me all bis curiosities, and 
persuaded me to add that to the number ; for which he paid me 
handsomely. 

In our house lodged a young woman, a milliner, who, I think, 
had a shop in the Cloisters. She had been genteelly bred, was 
sensible, lively, and of a most pleasing conversation. Kalph 
read plays to her in the evenings, they grew intimate, she took 
another lodging, and he followed her. They lived together some 
time; but, he being still out of business, and her income not 
sufficient to maintain them with her child, he took a resolution 
of going from London, to try for a country school, which ho 
thought himself well qualified to undertake, as he wrote an 
excellent hand, and was a master of arithmetic and accounts. 
This, however, he deemed a business below him ; and, confident 
of future better fortune, when he should be unwilling to have it 
known that he was once so meanly employed, he changed his 
name, and did me the honor to assume mine ; for I soon aftei 
had a letter from him, acquainting me that he was settled in a 
small village (in Berkshire, I think it was, where he taught 
reading and writing to ten or a dozen boys, at sixpence each per 

week) ; recommending Mrs. T to my care, and desiring me 

to write to him, directing for Mr. Franklin^ schoolmaster, at 
such a place. 

He continued to write to me frequently, sending me large speci- 
mens of an epic poem, which he was then composing, and desiring 
my remarks and corrections. These I gave him from time to 
time, but endeavored rather to discourage his proceedings. One 
of Young's Satires was then just published. I copied and sent 
him a great part of it, which set in a strong light the folly of 
pursuing the Muses. All was in vain ; sheets of the poem con- 
tinued to come by every post. In the mean tune, Mrs. T , 



156 franklin's select works. [1725 

having on his account lost her friends and business, was often in 
distresses, and used to send for me, and borrow what money I 
could spare to help to alleviate them. I grew fond of her com- 
pany, and, being at that time under no religious restraint, and 
taking advantage of my importance to her, I attempted to take 
some liberties with her (another erratum), which she repulsed, 
with a proper degree of resentment. She wrote to Ralph and 
acquainted him with my conduct ; this occasioned a breach 
between us ; and, when he returned to London, he let me know 
he considered all the obligations he had been under to me as an- 
nulled ; from which I concluded I was never to expect his repa^^- 
ing the money I had lent him, or that I had advanced for him. 
This, however, was of little consequence, as he was totally 
unable ; and by the loss of his friendship I found myself relieved 
from a hoavv burden. I now beo;an to think of o-ettino; a little 
beforehand, and, expecting better employment, I left Palmer's 
to work at Watts's, near Lincoln's Inn Fields, a still greater 
printing-house. Here I continued all the rest of my stay in 
London.=^ 

At my first admission into the printing-house I took to work- 
ing at press, imagining I felt a want of the bodily exercise I had 
been used to in America, where press-work is mixed with the 
composing. I drank only water ; the other workmen, near fifty 
in number, were great drinkers of beer. On occasion I carried 
up and down stairs a large form of types in each hand, when 
others carried but one in both hands. They wondered to see, 
from this and several instances, that the Water-A7nerican, as 
they called me, was stronger than themselves, who drank strong 
beer ! We had an ale-house boy, who attended always in the 
house to supply the workmen. My companion at the press drank 
every day a pint before breakfiist, a pint at breakfast with his 
bread and cheese, a pint between breakfast and dinner, a pint 
at dinner, a pint in the afternoon about six o'clock, and another 
when he had done his day's work. I thought it a detestable 
custom ; but it was necessary, he supposed, to drink strong beer 
that he might be strong to labor. I endeavored to convince 
him that the bodily strength afibrded by beer could only be in 
proportion to the grain or fiour of the barley dissolved in the 

* In the ^ear 1768, he visited this same printing-office, and, going up to a 
particular press, said to the men who were working at it : " Come, my 
friends, we will drink together. It is now forty years since I worked, like 
you, at this press, as a journeyman printer." i'ranklia then sent out for a 
gallon of porter, and drank with them. This press is now in the Patent 
Office at Washington. 



-^T. 19.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 157 

water of which it was made ; that there was more flour in a 
pennyworth of bread ; and therefore, if he could eat that with 
a pint of water, it would give him more strength than a quart of 
beer. He drank on, however, and had four or five shillino-s to 
pay out of his wages, every Saturday night, for that vile liquor ; 
an expense I was free from. And thus these poor devils keep 
themselves always under. 

Watts, after some weeks, desiring to have me in the com- 
posing-room, I left the press-men ; a new bien venu for drink, 
being five shillings, was demanded of me by the compositors. 
I thought it an imposition, as I had paid one to the press-men ; 
the master thought so too, and forbade my paying it. I stood 
out two or three weeks, was accordingly considered as an ex- 
communicate, and had so many little pieces of private malice 
practised on me, by mixing my sorts, transposing and breakinc^ 
my matter, &c. &c., if ever I stepped out of the room, — and al! 
ascribed to the chapel ghost, which they said ever haunted thosf* 
not regularly admitted, — that, notwithstanding the master's pro- 
tection, I found myself obliged to comply and pay the money ^ 
convinced of the folly of being on ill terms with those one is to 
live with continually. 

I was now on a fair footing with them, and soon acquired 
considerable influence. I proposed some reasonable alterations 
in their chapel^ laws, and carried them against all opposition. 
From my example, a great many of them left their muddiinc 
breakfast of beer, bread and cheese, finding they could with mo 
be supplied from a neighboring house with a large porringer of 
hot water-gruel, sprinkled with pepper, crumbled with bread, and 
a bit of butter in it, for the price of a pint of beer, namely, 
three halfpence. This was a more comfortable as well as a 
cheaper breakfast, and kept their heads clearer. Those who 
continued sotting with their beer all day were often, by not 
paying, out of credit at the ale-house, and used to make interest 
with me" to get beer; their light, as they phrased it, being out. 
\ watched the pay-table on Saturday night, and collected what 
1 stood engaged for them, having to pay sometimes near thirty 
shillings a week on their accounts. This, and my being esteemed 
a pretty good riggite, — that is, a jocular verbal satirist, — sup- 
ported my consequence in the society. My constant attendance 
(I never making a St. Monday) recommended me to the master ; 
and my uncommon quickness at composing occasioned my being 

* A printing-house was formerly called a chapel in England, from a tradi- 
tion that printing was first carried on in an old chapel. 

14 



158 franklin's select works. [1726 

put upon work of despatch, which was generally better paid. 
So I went on now very agreeably. 

My lodgings in Little Britain being too remote, I found 
another in Duke-street, opposite to the Romish chapel. It was 
up three pair of stairs backwards, at an Italian warehouse. A 
widow lady kept the house ; she had a daughter, and a maid- 
servant, and a journeyman who attended the warehouse, but 
lo<lged abroad. After sending to inquire my character at the 
house where I last lodo-ed, she agreed to take me in at the same 
rate, three shillings and sixpence a week ; cheaper, as she said, 
from the protection she expected in having a man to lodge in 
the house. She was a widow, an elderly woman ; had been bred 
a Protestant, being a clergyman's daughter, but was converted 
to the Catholic religion by her husband, whose memory she much 
revered ; had lived much among people of distinction, and knew 
a thousand anecdotes of them as far back as the time of Charles 
the Second. She was lame in her knees with the gout, and 
therefore seldom stirred out of her room ; so sometimes wanted 
company ; and hers was so highly amusing to me, that I was 
sure to spend an evening with her whenever she desired it. Our 
supper was only half an anchovy each, on a very little slice of 
bread and butter, and half a pint of ale between us ; but the 
entertainment was in her conversation. My always keeping 
good hours, and giving little trouble in the family, made her 
unwilling to part with me ; so that, when I talked of a lodging 
I had heard of, nearer my business, for two shillings a week, 
which, intent as I was on saving money, made some difference, 
she bid me not think of it, for she would abate me two shillings 
a week for the future ; so I remained with her at one shilling 
and sixpence as long as I stayed in London. 

In a garret of her house there lived a maiden lady of seventy, 
in the most retired manner, of whom my landlady gave me this 
account : that she was a Roman Catholic ; had been sent abroad 
when young, and lodged in a nunnery with an intent of be- 
coming a nun ; but, the country not agreeing with her, she 
returned to England, where, there being no nunnery, she had 
vowed to lead the life of a nun, as near as might be done in 
those circumstances. Accordingly, she had given all her estate 
to charitable purposes, reserving only twelve pounds a year to 
live on ; and out of this sum she still gave a part in charity, 
living herself on water-gruel only, and using no fire but to boil 
it. She had lived many years in that garret, being permitted 
to remain there gratis by successive Catholic tenants of the house 
below, as they deemed it a blessing to have her there. A priest 



^T. 20.] HIS AUTOBIOGKAPIIY. 159 

visited her, to confess her, every day. " From this, I asked her," 
said my landlady, " how she, as she lived, could possibly find 
so much employment for a confessor. " "0," said she, " it is 
impossible to avoid vain thoiights.^^ I was permitted once to 
visit her. She was cheerful and polite, and conversed pleasantly. 
The room was clean, but had no other furniture than a mattress, 
a table with a crucifix and a book, a stool which she gave me 
to sit on, and a picture over the chimney of St. Veronica dis- 
playing her handkerchief, with the miraculous figure of Christ's 
bleeding face on it, which she explained to me with great 
seriousness. She looked pale, but was never sick ; and I give 
it as another instance on how small an income life and health 
may be supported. 

At Watts's printing-house I contracted an acquaintance with 
an ingenious young man, one Wygate, who, having wealthy 
relations, had been better educated than most printers ; was a 
tolerable Latinist, spoke French, and loved reading. I taught 
him and a friend of his to swim, at twice going into the river, 
and they soon became good swimmers. They introduced me to 
some gentlemen from the country, who went to Chelsea by water, 
to see the College and Don Saltero's curiosities. In our return, 
at the request of the company, whose curiosity Wygate had 
excited, I stripped and leaped into the river, and swam from 
near Chelsea to Blackfriars ; performing in the way many feats 
of activity, both upon and under the water, that surprised and 
pleased those to whom they were novelties. 

I had from a child been delighted with this exercise,"^ had 
studied and practised Thevenot's motions and positions, and 
added some of my own, — aiming at the graceful and easy, as well 
as the useful. All these I took this occasion of exhibiting to 
the company, and was much flattered by their admiration ; and 
Wygate, who was desirous of becoming a master, grew more and 
more attached to me on that account, as well as from the simi- 
larity of our studies. He at length proposed to me travelling 
all over Europe together, supporting ourselves everywhere by 
working at our business. I was once inclined to it ; but, 
mentioning it to my good friend Mr. Denham, with whom I 
often spent an hour when I had leisure, he dissuaded me from 
it ; advising me to think only of returning to Pennsylvania, 
which he was now about to do. 



* The experiments of Franklin in floating with a kite-string in his hand, 
ka., and his sleeping an hour by the watch while floating, are worthy of 
aote. He wrote two interestina; letters on the art of swimming. 



160 franklin's select works. [1726. 

I must record one trait of this good man's character. He 
had formerly been in business at Bristol, but failed, in debt to a 
nmiiber of people, compoimded, and went to America. There, 
by a close application to business as a merchant, he acquired a 
plentiful fortune in a few years. Returning to England in the 
ship with me, he invited his old creditors to an entertainment, 
at which he thanked them for the easy composition they had 
favored him with, and, when they expected nothing but the treat, 
every man at the first remove found under his plate an order 
on a banker for the full amount of the unpaid remainder, with 
interest. 

He now told me he was about to return to Philadelphia, and 
should carry over a great quantity of goods, in order to open a 
store there. He proposed to take me over as clerk, to keep his 
books, in which he would instruct me, copy his letters, and at- 
tend the store. He added, that, as soon as I should be acquaint- 
ed with mercantile business, he would promote me by sending me 
with a cargo of flour and bread to the West Indies, and procure 
me commissions from others which would be profitable ; and, if I 
managed well, would establish me handsomely. Tlie thing 
pleased me ; for I was grown tired of London, remembered with 
pleasure the happy months I had spent in Pennsylvania, and 
wished again to see it. Therefore I immediately agreed on the 
terms of fifty pounds a year, Pennsylvania money ; less, indeed, 
than my then present gettings as a compositor, but afibrding a 
better prospect. 

I now took leave of printing, as I thought, forever, and was 
daily employed in my new business, going about with Mr. Den- 
ham among the tradesmen to purchase various articles and see 
them packed up, delivering- messages, calling up workmen to 
despatch, &c. ; and when all was on board, I had a few days' 
leisure. On one of these days, I was, to my surprise, sent for 
by a great man I knew only by name. Sir William Wyndham ; 
and I waited upon him. He had heard by some means or other 
of my swimming from Chelsea to Blackfriars, and of my teach- 
ing Wygate and another young man to swim in a few hours. 
He had two sons, about to set out on their travels ; he wished to 
have them first taught swimming, and projDosed to gratify me 
handsomely if I would teach them. They were not yet come to 
town, and my stay was uncertain ; so I could not undertake it. 
But, from the incident, I thought it likely that, if I were to re- 
main in England and open a swimming-school, I might get a 
good deal of money ; and it struck me so strongly, that, had the 
overture been made me sooner, probably I should not so soon 



^T. 20.] niS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 161 

have returned to ximerica. Many years after, you and I had 
something of more miportance to do with one of these sons of 
Sir William Wyndham, become Earl of Egremont, which I shall 
mention in its place. 

Thus I passed about eighteen months in London ; most paii 
of the time I worked hard at my business, and spent but littlo 
upon myself, except in seeing plays and in books. My friend 
Ralph had kept me poor ; he owed me about twenty-seven 
pounds, which I was now never likely to receive; a great sum 
out of my small earnings ! I loved him, notwithstanding, for he 
had many amiable qualities. I had improved my knowledge, 
however, though I had by no means improved my fortune ; but 
I had made some very ingenious acquaintance, whose conversa- 
tion was of great advantage to me ; and I had read considera- 
bly. 



CHAPTER IV. 

Embarks for Philaclelpbia — Arrival — Illness and. Disappointment — Fore- 
man to Keimer — Breaks with him — Resolves to set up for himself — ■ 
Meredith — Engraves Plates — Views of Religion — His London Disserta- 
tion — New Convictions — Types from London — A Partner — A Croaker — • 
The "Junto — Writes the Busy-body — Sets up a Xewspaper — Friends in 
need — Dissolves with Partner — Tract on a Paper Currency — Opens a 
Stationer's Shop — Thrifty Habits — Matrimonial Designs — Miss Read — 
Marriage — A Subscription Library. 

We sailed from Glravesend on the 23d of July, 1726. For 
the incidents of the voyage, I refer you to my journal, where 
you will find them all minutely related. Perhaps the most im- 
portant part of that journal is the ylan ^ to be found in it, 
which I formed at sea, for regulating the future conduct of ray 
life. It is the more remarkable, as being formed when I was 

* The journal in existence does not contain the jyZrtn here referred to. In 
a subsequent chapter of this autobiography, a specimen of the " Plan of 
Order" is given. The journal consists mostly of details of the customary 
routine of life at sea. Occasionally we have a Franklinian gleam, as in the 
following passage : " Truth and sincerity have a certain distinguishing 
native lustre about them, which cannot be counterfeited ; they are like fire 
and llame, that cannot be painted." He rises to enthusiasm as he records, 
under date of October 11, 1726, his entrance into the Delaware : " The sun 
enlivens our stilf^limbs with liis glorious rays of wai-mth and bi'ightness. 
The sky looks gay, with here and. there a silver cloud. The fresh breezes 
from the woods refresh us ; the immediate prospect of liberty, after «o 
long and irksome confinement, ravishes us. In short, all things conspire to 
\aake this the most joyful day I ever knew." 



162 franklin's select works. [172T. 

so young, and yet being pretty faithfully adhered to quite 
throuo;h to old a^e. 

We landed at Philadelphia the 11th of October, where I 
found sundry alterations. Keith was no longer governor, being 
superseded by Major Gordon ; I met him walking the streets as 
a common citizen. He seemed a little ashamed at seeing me, 
and passed without saying anything. I should have been as 
much ashamed at seeing Miss Read, had not her friends, despair- 
ing, with reason, of my return, after the receipt of my letter, per- 
suaded her to marry another, one Rogers, a potter, which was 
done in my absence. With him, however, she was never happy, 
and soon parted from him, refusing to cohabit with him, or bear 
his name, it being now said he had another wife. He was a 
worthless fellow, though an excellent workman, which was the 
temptation to her friends. He got into debt, ran away in 1727 
or 1728, went to the West Indies, and died there. Keimer had 
got a better house, a shop well supplied with stationery, plenty 
of new types, and a number of hands, though none good, and 
seemed to have a great deal of business. 

Mr. Denham took a store in Water-street, where we opened 
our goods ; I attended the business diligently, studied accounts, 
and grew in a little time expert at selling. We lodged and 
boarded together ; he counselled me as a father, having a sincere 
regard for me. I respected and loved him, and we might have 
gone on together very happily ; but, in the beginning of Febru- 
ary 1727, when I had just passed my twenty-first year, we both 
were taken ill. My distemper was a pleurisy, which very nearly 
carried me off. I suffered a good deal, gave up the point in my 
own mind, and vfas at the time rather disappointed wiien I found 
myself recovering ; regretting, in some degree, that I must now, 
some time or other, have all that disagreeable work to go over 
again. I forget what Mr. Denham's distemper was; it held 
him a long time, and at length carried him off. He left me a 
small legacy in a nuncupative will, as a token of his kindness 
for me, and he left me once more to the wide world ; for the 
store was taken into the care of his executors, and my employ- 
ment under him ended. 

My brother-in-law, Homes, being now at Philadelphia, ad- 
vised my return to my business ; and Keimer tempted me, with 
an offer of large wages by the year, to come and take the man- 
agement of his printing-house, that he might better attend to his 
stationer's shop. 1 had heard a bad character of him in Lon- 
don from his wife and her friends, and was not for having any 
more to do with him. I wished for employment as a merchant'.^ 



^T. 21.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 163 

clerk ; but, not meeting witli any, I closed again with Keimer. 
I found in his house these hands : Hugh Meredith, a Welsh 
Pennsylvanian, thirty years of age, bred to country work ; he 
was honest, sensible, a man of experience, and fond of reading, 
but addicted to drinking. Stephen Potts, a young countryman 
of full age, bred to the same, of uncommon natural parts, and 
great wit and humor ; but a little idle. These he had agreed 
with at extreme low wages per week, to be raised a shilling every 
three months, as they would deserve by improving in their busi- 
ness ; and the expectation of these high wages, to come on here- 
after, Avas what he had drawn them in with. Meredith was to 
work at press, Potts at bookbinding, which he by agreement was 
to teach them, though he knew neither one nor the other. 

John , a wild Irishman, brought up to no business, whose 

service, for four years, Keimer had purchased from the captain 
of a ship ; he too was to be made a pressman. George Webb, 
an Oxford scholar, whose time for four years he had likewise 
bought, intending him for a compositor, of whom more presently ; 
and David Harry, a country boy, whom he had taken apprentice. 

I soon perceived that the intention of engaging me at wages 
so much higher than he had been used to give was, to have 
these raw, cheap hands formed through me ; and, as soon as I 
had instructed them, they being all articled to him, he should be 
able to do without me. I went, however, very cheerfully, put 
his printing-house in order, which had been in great confusion, 
and brouglit his hands by degrees to mind their business and to 
do it better. 

It was an odd thing to find an Oxford scholar in the situation 
of a bought servant. He was not more than eighteen years of 
age, and he gave me this account of himself: that he was born 
in Gloucester, educated at a grammar school, and had been dis- 
tinguished among the scholars tor some apparent superiority in 
performing his part when they exhibited plays ; belonged to the 
Wits' Club there, and had written some pieces in prose and verse, 
which were printed in the Gloucester newspapers. Thence was 
sent to Oxfoixl ; there he continued about a year, but not well 
satisfied ; wishing, of all things, to see London, and become a 
player. At length, receiving his quarterly allowance of fifteen 
guineas, instead of discharging his debts, he went out of town, 
hid his gown in a furze-bush, and walked to London ; where, 
having no friend to advise him, he fell into bad company, soon 
spent his guineas, found no means of being introduced among 
the playj^'*s, grew necessitous, pawned his clothes, and wanted 
bread. W^alking the street very hungry, not knowing what to 



164 franklin's select works. [1727. 

do with liimself, a crimp's bill was put into his hand, offering im- 
mediate entertainment and encouragement to such as would bind 
themselves to serve in America. He went directly, signed the 
indentures, was put into the ship, and came over ; never writing 
a line to his friends to acquaint them what was become of him. 
He was lively, witty, good-natured, and a pleasant companion ; 
but idle, thoughtless, and imprudent to the last degree. 

John, the Irishman, soon ran away ; with the rest I began to 
live very agreeably, for they all respected me the more, as they 
found Keimer incapable of instructing them, and that from me 
they learned something daily. My acquaintance with ingenious 
people in the town increased. We never worked on Saturday, 
that being Keimer's Sabbath ; so that 1 had two days for reading. 
Keimer himself treated me with great civility and apparent re- 
gard, and nothing now made me uneasy but my debt to Vernon, 
which I was yet unable to pay, being hitherto but a poor econo- 
mist. He, however, kindly made no demand of it. 

Our printing-house often wanted sorts, and there was no letter- 
foundery in America ; I had seen types cast at James's in 
London, but without much attention to the manner ; however, I 
contrived a mould, and made use of the letters we had as punch- 
eons, struck the matrices in lead, and thus supplied in a pretty 
tolerable way all deficiencies. I also engraved several things, on 
occasion ; made the ink ; I was warehouseman, and, in short, 
quite a fac-totum. But, however serviceable I might .be, I 
found that my services became every day of less importance, as 
the other hands improved iii their business ; and, when Keimer 
paid me a second quarter's wages, he let me know that he felt 
them too heavy, and thought I should make an abatement. He 
grew by degrees less civil, put on more the airs of master, fre- 
quently found fault, was captious, and seemed ready for an out- 
breaking. I went on nevertheless with a good deal of patience, 
thinking that his encumbered circumstances were partly the cause. 

At length a trifle snapt our connection ; for, a great noise hap- 
pening near the court-house, I put my head out of the window 
to see what was the matter. Keimer, being in the street, looked 
up and saw me, called out to me in a loud voice and angry tone 
to mind my business ; adding some reproachful words, that net- 
tled me the more for their publicity ; all the neighbors who were 
lookin2; out on the same occasion being witnesses how I was 
treated. He came up immediately into the printing-house, con- 
tinued the quarrel, high words passed on both sides, he gave me 
the quarter's warning we had stipulated, expressing a wish that 
he had not been obliged to so long a warning. I told him hia 



^T. 2].] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 165 

wish was unnecessary, for I would leave him that instant ; and 
BO, taking my hat, walked out of doors, desiring Meredith, whom 
I saw below, to take care of some things I left, and bring them 
to my lodgings. 

Meredith came accordingly in the evening, when we talked 
my affair over. He had conceived a great regard for me, and 
was very unwilling that I should leave the house while he re- 
mained in it. He dissuaded me from returning to my native 
country, which I began to think of; he reminded me that Kei- 
raer was in debt for all he j)ossessed, that his creditors began to 
be uneasy ; that he kept his shop miserably, sold often without 
a profit for ready money, and often trusted without keeping ac- 
counts ; that he must therefore fail, which would make a vacan- 
cy I might profit of. I objected my want of money. He then 
let me know that his fiither had a high opinion of me, and, from 
some discourse that had passed between them, he was sure would 
advance money to set me up, if I would enter into partnership 
with him. " My time," said he, " will be out with Keimer in 
the spring ; by that time we may have our press and types in 
from London. I am sensible I am no workman ; if you like it, 
your skill in the business shall be set against the stock I furnish, 
and we will share the profits equally." 

The proposal was agreeable to me, and I consented; his father 
was in town, and approved of it ; the more, as he said I had 
great influence with his son, had prevailed on him to abstain 
long from dram-drinking, and he hoped might break him of that 
wretched habit entirely, when we came to be so closely con- 
nected. 1 gave an inventory to the father, who carried it to a 
merchant ; the things were sent for, the secret was to be kept 
till they should arrive, and in the mean time I was to get work, 
if I could, at the other printing-house. But I found no vacancy 
there, and so remained idle a few days, when Keimer, on a pros- 
pect of being employed to print some paper money in New Jer- 
sey, which would require cuts and various types, that I only 
could supply, and apprehending Bradford might engage me and 
get the job from him, sent me a very civil message, that old 
friends should not part for a few words the effect of sudden pas- 
sion, and wishing me to return. Meredith persuaded me to 
comply, as it would give more opportunity for his improvement 
under my daily instructions ; so I returned, and we went on 
more smoothly than for some time before. The New Jersey 
job was obtained ; I contrived a copper-plate press for it, the first 
that had been seen in the country ; I cut several ornaments and 
checks for the bills. We went together to Burlington, where I 



166 franklin's select works. 1^27. 

executed the whole to satisfaction ; and he received so large a sum 
for the work as to be enabled thereby to keep himself longer 
from ruin. 

At Burlington I made acquaintance with many principal 
people of the province. Several of them had been appointed by 
the Assembly a committee to attend the press, and take care 
that no more bills were printed than the law directed. They 
were, therefore, by turns constantly with us, and generally he 
who attended brought with him a friend or two for company. 
My mind having been much more improved by reading than 
Keimer's, I suppose it was for that reason my conversation 
seemed to be more valued. They had me to their houses, intro- 
duced me to their friends, and showed me much civility ; while 
he, though the master, was a little neglected. In truth, he was 
an odd creature ; ignorant of common life, fond of rudely oppos- 
ing received opinions, slovenly to extreme dirtiness, enthusiastic 
in some points of religion, and a little knavish withal. 

We continued there near three months ; and by that time I 
could reckon among my acquired friends Judge Allen, Samuel 
Bustill, the Secretary of the Province, Isaac Pearson, Joseph 
Cooper, and several of the Smiths, members of Assembly, 
and Isaac Decow, the Surveyor-General. The latter was a 
shrewd, sagacious old man, who told me that he began for him 
self when young by wheeling clay for the brickmakers, learned 
to write after he was of age, carried the chain for surveyors, who 
taught him surveying, and he had now, by his industry, acquired 
a good estate ; and, said he, "I foresee that you will soon work 
this man out of his business, and make a fortune in it at Phila- 
delphia." He had then not the least intimation of my intention 
to set up there or anywhere else. These friends were afterwards 
of great use to me, as I occasionally was to some of them. 
They all continued their regard for me as long as they lived. 

Before I enter upon my public appearance in business, it may 
be well to let you know the then state of my mind with regard 
to my principles and morals, that you may see how far these in- 
fluenced the future events of my life. My parents had early 
given me religious impressions, and brought me through my 
childhood piously, in the Dissenting way. But I was scarce fif- 
teen, when, after doubting by turns several points, as I found 
them disputed in the diiferent books I read, I began to doubt 
of the Revelation itself. Some books against Deism fell into 
my hands ; they were said to be the substance of the sermons 
which had been preached at Boyle's Lectures. It happened that 
they wrought an effect on me quite contrary to what was in- 



^T. 21.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 167 

tended by tliera. For the arguments of the Deists, which were 
quoted to be refuted, appeared to me much stronger than the 
refutations . in short, I soon became a thorough Deist. M}' 
arguments perverted some others, particularly Collins and Ralph; 
but, each of these having wronged me greatly without the least 
compunction, and recollecting Keith's conduct towards me (who 
was another freethinker), and my own towards Vernon and Miss 
Head, — which at times gave me great trouble, — I began to suspect 
that this doctrine, though it might be true, was not very useful. 
My London pamphlet, printed in 1725,^ which had for its motto 
these lines of Dryden : 

" "Whatever is, is riglit. But purblind man 
Sees but a part o' the chaiy, the nearest links ; 
His eyes not carrying to that equal beam. 
That poises all above ; " 

and which, from the attributes of God, his infinite wisdom, good 
ness and power, concluded that nothing could possibly be wrong 
in the world, and that vice and virtue were empty distinctions, 
no such things existing, appeared now not so clever a perform- 
ance as I once thoudit it : and I doubted whether some error 

CD ' 

* A copy of this, long supposed to be out of existence, has been recently 
found in England. It is an octavo of sixteen pages, entitled " A Discourse 
on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure and Pain ; in a letter to a friend." 
The motto from Dryden, misquoted by Franklin in his Autobiography, ia 
given as follows : 

" Whatever is, is in its causes just, 
Since all thing's are by fate ; but purblind man 
Sees but a part of the chain, the nearest hnk ; 
His eyes not carrying to the equal beam 
That poises all above." 

The pamphlet, of which only a hundred copies were printed, is addressed 
" to Mr. J. K." (.James Ralph), and commences : " Sir, I have here, ac 
cording to your request, given you my present thoughts on the general state 
of the unwerse ; " and concludes : "Truth will be truth, though it sometimes 
prove mortifying and distasteful." The attempt was rather presumptuous 
for a lad of nineteen ; and Franklin lived to be ashamed of it. He says, 
in a letter to Cenjaiuin Vaughan, dated Xovember 9, 1779: "In 1730 1 
wrote a piece on the other side of the question, which began with laying for 
its foundation this fact, ' That almoat all men in all ogrs and countries have at 
times made use of fkayer.' Thence I reasoned that, if all things are or 
dained, prayer must, among the rest, be ordained. Dut, as pray^er can pro- 
cure no change in things that are ordained, praying must tlien be useless, 
and an absurdity. God would, therefore, not ordain praying, if everything 
else was ordained. But praying exists; therefore all other things are not 
ordained, Sec. This pamphlet was never printed, and the manuscript has 
been long lost. The great uncertainty I found in metaphysical reasonings 
disgusted me, and I quitted that kind of reading and study for others more 
satisfactory." 



168 FRANKLIN'S SELECT WORKS. [1727 

had not insinuated itself unperceived into my argument, so as to 
infect all that followed, as is common in metaphysical reason- 
ings. 

I grew convinced that truth, sincerity and integrity, in deal- 
ings between man and man, were of the utmost importance 
to the felicity of life ; and I formed written resolutions, which 
still remain in my journal-book, to practise them ever while I 
lived. Revelation had, indeed, no weight with me, as such ; but 
I entertained an opinion that, though certain actions might not 
be bad because they were forbidden by it, or good because it 
commanded them, yet probably those actions might be forbidden 
because they were bad for us, or commanded because they were 
beneficial to us, in their own natures, all the circumstances of 
things considered. -And this persuasion, with the kind hand of 
Providence, or some guardian angel, or accidental favorable cir- 
cumstances and situations, or all together, preserved me through 
this dangerous time of youth, and the hazardous situations I was 
sometimes in among strangers, remote from the eye and advice 
of my father., free from any wilful gross immorality or injustice, 
that might have been expected from my want of religion. I say 
wilful, because the instances I have mentioned had something of 
7iecessity in them, from my youth, inexperience, and the knavery 
of others. I had therefore a tolerable character to begin the 
world with ; I valued it properly, and determined to preserve it. 

We had not been long returned to Philadelphia, before the 
new types arrived from London. We settled with Keimer, and 
left him by his consent before he heard of it. We found a house 
to let near the Market, and took it. To lessen the rent, which 
was then but twenty-four pounds a year, though I have since 
known it to let for seventy, we took in Thomas Godfrey, a 
glazier, and his family, who were to pay a considerable part of 
it to us, and we to board with them. We had scarce opened 
our letters and put our press in order, before George House, an 
acquaintance of mine, brought a countryman to us, whom he had 
met in the street, inquiring for a i;)rinter. All our cash was 
now expended in the variety of particulars we had been obliged 
to procure, and this countryman's five shillings, being our first- 
fruits, and coming so seasonably, gave me more pleasure than 
any crown I have since earned ; and the gratitude I felt towards 
House has made me often more ready than perhaps I otherwise 
should have been to assist young beginners. 

There are croakers in every comitry, always boding its ruin. 
Such a one there lived in Philadelphia ; a person of note, an elderly 
man, with a wise look and a very grave manner of speaking : his 



JET. 22.] FRAJSTKLIN'S SELECT WORKS. 169 

name was Samuel Mickle. This gentleman, a stranger to me, 
stopped me one day at my door, and asked me if I was the young 
man who had lately opened a new printing-house. Being answered 
in the affirmative, he said he was sorry for me, because it was an 
expensive undertaking, and the expense would be lost ; for Phila- 
delphia was a sinking place, the people ah-eady half bankrupts, 
or near being so ; all the appearances of the contrary, such as 
new buildings and the rise of rents, being, ^ his certain knowl- 
edge, fallacious; for they were, in fact, among the things that 
would ruin us. Then he gave me such a detail of misfortunes 
now existing, or that were soon to exist, that he left me half 
melancholy. Had I known him before I engaged in this busi- 
ness, probably I never should have done it. This person 
continued to live in this decaying place, and to declaim in the 
same strain, refusing, for many years, to buy a house there, be- 
cause all was going to destruction ; and, at last, I had the pleas- 
ure of seeing him give five times as much for one as he might 
have bought it for when he first began croaking. 

I should have mentioned before that, in the autumn of the 
preceding year, I had formed most of my ingenious acquaint- 
ance into a club for mutual improvement, which we called the 
Junto ; we met on Friday evenings. The rules that I drew up 
required that every member, in his turn, should produce one or 
more queries on anj point of Morals, Politics or Natural Phi- 
losophy, to be discussed by the company; and once in three 
months produce and read an essay of his own writing, on any 
subject he pleased. Our debates were to be under the direction 
of a president, and to be conducted in the sincere spirit of in- 
quiry after truth, without fondness for dispute, or desire of vic- 
tory ; and, to prevent warmth, all expressions of positiveness in 
opinions, or direct contradiction, were after some time made con- 
traband, and prohibited under small pecuniary penalties. 

The first members were Joseph Breintnal, a copier of deeds 
for the scriveners, — a good-natured, friendly, middle-aged man, a 
great lover of poetry, reading all he could meet with, and writ- 
ing some that was tolerable; very ingenious in making little 
knick-knackeries, and of sensible conversation. 

Thomas Godfrey, a self-taught mathematician, great in his 
way, and afterwards inventor of what is now called Hadley^s 
Quadrant/^ But he knew little out of his way, and was not 
a pleasing companion ; as, like most great mathematicians I have 



* The claim of Godfrey to an invention, the merit of which Hadley sur 
ptitiously obtained by copying Godfrey's instrument, has been fully es 

15 



rept 
tablished 



170 franklin's select works. [IT^b 

met with, he expected universal precision in everything said, oi 

was forever denying or distinguishing upon trifles, to the disturb 

ance of all conversation. He soon left us. 

Nicholas Scull, a surveyor, aftei-wards surveyor-general, who 

loved books, and sometimes made a few verses. 

William Parsons, bred a shoemaker, but, loving reading, had 

acquired a considerable share of mathematics, which he firsi 

studied with a view to astrology, and afterwards laughed at it. 

He also became surve^^or-general, 

William Maugridge, joiner, but a most exquisite mechanic, 

and a solid, sensible man. 

Hugh Meredith, Stephen Potts, and George Webb, I have 

characterized before. 

Robert Grrace, a young gentleman of some fortune, generous 

lively, and witty ; a lover of punning, and of his friends. 

Lastly, William Coleman, then a merchant's clerk, about my 

age, who had the coolest, clearest head, the best heart, and tht 
exactest morals, of ahnost any man I ever met with. He be- 
came afterwards a merchant of great note, and one of our pro- 
vincial judges. Our friendship continued without interruptioL 
to his death, upwards of forty years ; and the club continued 
almost as long, and was the best school of philosophy, moralitj 
and politics, that then existed in the province ; for om- queries, 
which were read the week preceding their discussion, put us upon 
readinty with attention on the several subjects, that we might 
speak more to the purpose ; and here too we acquired better 
habits of conversation, everything being studied in our rules 
which might prevent our disgusting each other. Hence the long 
continuance of the club, which I shall have frequent occasion to 
speak further of hereafter. 

But my giving this account of it here is to show something 
of the interest I had, every one of these exerting themselves in 
recommending business to us. Breintnal, particularly, procured 
us from the Quakers the printing of forty sheets of their history, 
the rest being to be done by Keimer ; and upon these we worked 
exceedingly hard, for the price was low. It was a folio, pro 
patrid size, in pica, with long primer notes. I composed a sheet 
^ day, and Meredith worked it off at press ; it was often eleven 
>U night, and sometimes later, before I liad finished my distribu-^ 
tion for the next day's work. For the little jobs sent in by our 
other friends now and then put us back. But, so determined I 
was to continue doing a sheet a day of the folio, that one night, 
when, having imposed my forms, I thought my day's work over, 
one of them, by aceident, was broken, and two pages reduced to 



JET. 22.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 171 

pi. I immediately distributed and composed it over again be- 
fore I went to bed ; and this industry, visible to our neighbors, 
began to give us character and credit ; particularly, I was told, 
that, mention being made of the new printing-office at the mer- 
chants' evjry-night club, the general opinion was that it must 
fail, there being already two printers in the place, Keimer and 
Bradford ; but Dr. Baird (whom you and I saw, many years 
after, at his native place, St. Andrew's in Scotland) gave a con- 
trary opinion. " For the industry of that Franklin," said he, 
" is superior to anything I ever saw of the kind ; I see him still 
at work when I go home from club, and he is at work again be- 
fore his neighbors are out of bed." This struck the rest, and 
we soon after had ofi'ers from one of them to supply us with sta- 
tionery ; but as yet we did not choose to engage ia shop busi- 
ness. 

I mention this industry more particularly and the more freely, 
though it seems to be talking in my own praise, that those of my 
posterity who shall read it may know the use of that virtue, 
when they see its effects in my favor throughout this relation. 

George Webb, who had found a female friend that lent him 
wherewith to purchase his time of Keimer, now came to offer 
himself as a journeyman to us. We could not then employ him ; 
but I foolishly let him know, as a secret, that I soon intended to 
begin a newspaper, and might then have work for him. My hopes 
of success, as I told him, were founded on this : that the then 
only newspaper, printed by Bradford, was a paltry thing, 
wretchedly managed, no way entertaining, and yet was profitable 
to him ; I therefore freely thought a good paper would scarcely 
fail of good encouragement. I requested Webb not to mention 
it ; but he told it to Keimer, who immediately, to be beforehand 
with me, published proposals for one himself, on which Webb 
was to be employed. I was vexed at this ; and, to counteract 
them, not being able to commence our paper, I wrote several 
amusing pieces for Bradford's paper, under the title of the Busy 
Body, which Breintnal continued some months. By this means 
the attention of the public was fixed on that paper, and Keimer's 
proposals, which we burlesqued and ridiculed, were disregarded. 
He began his paper, however ; and, before carrying it on three 
quarters of a year, with at most only ninety subscribers, he 
offered it me for a trifle ; and I, having been ready some time to 
go on with it, took it in hand directly ; and it proved in a few 
years extremely profitable to me.^ 

* This was the Pennsylvania Gazette, the publication of which Franklin 
and Meredith began in 1729. There is a story that some of his subscribers. 



172 franklin's select works. [1729 

I perceive that I am apt to speak in the singular number, 
though our partnership still continued ; it may be that in fact 
the whole management of the business lay upon me. Meredith 
was no compositor, a poor pressman, and seldom sober. My 
friends lamented my connection with him, but I was to make the 
best of it. 

Our first papers made quite a difierent appearance from any 
before in the province ; a better type, and better printed ; but 
some remarks of my writing, on the dispute then going on be- 
tween Governor Burnet and the Massachusetts Assembly, struck 
the principal people, occasioned the paper and the manager of it 
to be much talked of, and in a few weeks brought them all to be 
our subscribers. 

Their example was followed by many, and our number went 
on growing continually. This was one of the first good efiects 
of my having learned a little to scribble ; another was, that the 
leading men, seeing a newspaper now in the hands of those who 
could also handle a pen, thought it convenient to oblige and en- 
courage me. Bradford still printed the votes, and laws, and 
other public business. He had printed an address of the House 
to the Governor, in a coarse, blundering manner; we reprinted 
it elegantly and correctly, and sent one to every member. They 
were sensible of the difierence, it strengthened the hands of our 
friends in the House, and they voted us their printers for the 
year ensuing. 

Among my friends in the House, I must not forget Mr. Ham- 
ilton, before mentioned, who was then returned from England, 
and had a seat in it. He interested himself for me strono;lv in 
that instance, as he did in many others afterwards, continuing 
his patronage till his death.^ 

Mr. Vernon, about this time, put me in mind of the debt I 
owed him, but did not press me. I wrote to him an ingenuous 
letter of acknowledgment, craving his forbearance a little lon- 
ger, which he allowed me. As soon as I was able, I paid him 
the principal with the interest, and many thanks ; so that erratum 
was in some degree corrected.! 



having threatened to " stop their patronage" in consequence of certain 
sentiments he had advanced, Franklin invited them to dine, and having se{ 
before them a coarse meal mixture, known as sawdust pudding, on their draw- 
ing back from it he remarked, " Gentlemen, a man who can subsist on saw- 
dust pudding need call no man patron." 

* 1 afterwards procured for his son Jii^e hundred pounds, 
f "While minister at Paris„ he rendered important services to a descend- 
ant of Mr. Vernon. 



^T. 23.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 1T5 

But now another difficulty came upon me, which I had never 
the least reason to expect. Mr. Meredith's father, who was to 
have paid for our printing-house, according to the expectations 
given me, was able to advance only one hundred pounds currency, 
which had been paid ; and a hundred more were due to the 
merchant, who grew impatient and sued us all. We gave bail, 
but saw that, if the money could not be raised in time, the suit 
must soon come to a judgment and execution, and our hopeful 
prospects must, with us, be ruined; as the press and letters 
must be sold for payment, p'^rhaps at half price. 

In this distress two true friends, whose kindness I have never 
forgotten, nor ever shall forget while I can remember anything, 
came to me separately, unknown to each other, and, without any 
application from me, ofiered each of them to advance me all the 
money that should be necessary to enable me to take the whole 
business upon myself, if that should be practicable ; but they 
did not like my continuing the partnership with Meredith, who, 
as they said, was often seen drunk in the street, playing at low 
games in ale-houses, much to our discredit. These two friends 
were William Coleman and Robert Glrace. I told them I could 
not propose a separation while any prospect remained of the 
Merediths' fulfilling their part of our agreement; because I 
thought myself under great obligations to them for what they 
had done, and would do if they could ; but, if they finally failed 
in their performance, and our partnership must be dissolved, I 
should then think myself at liberty to accept the assistance of 
my friends. 

Thus the matter rested for some time, when I said to my 
partner, " Perhaps your father is dissatisfied at the part you 
have undertaken in this affair of ours, and is unwilling to advance 
for you and me, what he would for you. If that is the case, tell 
aie, and I will resign the whole to you, and go about my busi- 
ness." " No," said he, " my father has really been disappointed, 
and is really unable ; and I am unwilling to distress him further. 
I see this is a business I am not fit for. I was bred a farmer, 
and it was folly in me to come to town, and put myself, at thirty 
years of age, an apprentice to learn a new trade. Many of our 
Welsli people are going to settle in North Carolina, where land 
is cheap. I am inclined to go with them, and follow my old 
employment ; you may find friends to assist you. If you will 
take the debts of the company upon you, return to my father 
the hundred pounds he has advanced, pay my little personal 
debts, and give me thirty pounds and a new saddle, I will re- 
linquish the partnership, and leave the whole in your hands," 
15=^ 



174 franklin's select works. [172y 

I agreed to this proposal ; it was drawn up in writing, signed 
and sealed immediately. I gave him what he demanded, and 
he went soon after to Carolina ; whence he sent me next year 
two lono* letters, containing the best account that had been given 
of that country, the climate, the soil, and husbandry; for in those 
matters he was very judicious. I printed them in the papers, 
and they gave great satisfaction to the public. 

As soon as he was gone, I recurred to my two friends , and, 
because I would not give an unkind preference to either, I took 
half of what each had oiFered and I wanted of one, and half of 
the other; paid off the company's debts, and went on with the 
business in my own name ; advertising that the partnership was 
dissolved. I think this was in or about the year 1729.^ 

About this time there was a cry among the people for more 
paper money ; only fifteen thousand pounds being extant in the 
province, and that soon to be sunk. The wealthy inhabitants 
opposed any addition, being against all .paper currency, from the 
apprehension that it would depreciate, as it had done in New 
England, to the injury of all creditors. We had discussed this 
point in our Junto, where I was on the side of an addition ; 
being persuaded that the first small sura struck in 1723 had 
done much good, by increasing the trade, employment, and num- 
ber of inhabitants in the province ; since I now saw all the old 
houses inhabited, and many new ones building; whereas I 
remembered well, when I first walked about the streets of Phila- 
delphia, eating my roll, I saw many of the houses in Walnut- 
street, between Second and Front streets, with bills on their 
doors, " To be let ; " and many likewise in Chestnut-street and 
other streets ; which made me think the inhabitants of the city 
were one after another deserting it. 

Our debates possessed me so fully of the subject, that I wrote 
and printed an anonymous pamphlet on it, entitled, " The Nature 
and Necessity of a Paper Currency.'''' It was well received by 
the common people in general ; but the rich men disliked it, for 
it increased and strengthened the clamor for more money ; and, 
they happening to have no writers among them that were able 
to answer it, their opposition slackened, and the point was 
carried by a majority in the House. My friends there, who 
considered I had been of some service, thought fit to reward me 
by employing me in printing the money ; a very profitable job, and 
a great help to me. This was another advantage gained by my 
being able to v.a-ite. 

* By the agreement, still extant, it appears that the dissolution took placa 
July 14, 173U. 



^T. 23.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 175 

The utility of this currency became b^^ time and experience so 
evident, that the principles upon which it was founded were 
never afterwards much disputed ; so that it grew soon to fifty- 
five thousand pounds, and in 1739 to eighty thousand pounds ; 
trade, building, and inhabitants, all the while increasing. 
Though I now think there are limits, beyond which the quantity 
•''^y be hurtful. 

I soon after obtained, through my friend Hamilton, the print- 
ing of the Newcastle paper money, another profitable job, as I 
then thought it ; small things appearing great to those in small 
circumstances ; and these to me were really great advantages, 
as they were great encouragements. Mr. Hamilton procured 
for me also the printing of the laws and votes of that govern- 
ment, which continued in my hands as long as I followed the 
business. 

I now opened a small stationer's shop. I had in it blanks of 
all kinds ; the correctest that ever appeared among us. I was 
assisted in that by my friend Breintnal. I had also paper, 
parchment, chapmen's books, &c. One Whitemarsh, a composi- 
tor I had known in London, an excellent workman, now came 
to me, and worked with me constantly and diligently; and I 
took an apprentice, the son of Aquila Kose. 

I began now gradually to pay off the debt I was under for 
the printing-house. In order to secure my credit and character 
as a tradesman, I took care not only to be in reality industrious 
and frugal, but to avoid the appearances to the contrary. I 
dressed plain, and was seen at no places of idle diversion, 
I never went out a fishing or shooting ; a book indeed sometimes 
debauched me from my work, but that was seldom, was private, 
and gave no scandal ; and, to show that I was not above my 
business, I sometimes brought home the paper I purchased at 
the stores through the streets on a wheelbarrow. Thus being 
esteemed an industrious, thriving young man, and paying duly 
for what I bought, the merchants who imported stationery 
solicited my custom ; others proposed supplying me with books, 
and I went on prosperously. In the mean time, Keimer's credit 
and business declining daily, he was at last forced to sell his 
printing-house to satisfy his creditors. He went to Barbadoes, 
and there lived some years in very poor circumstances. 

His apprentice, David Harry, whom I had instructed while I 
worked with him, set up in his place at Philadelphia, having 
bought his materials. I was at first apprehensive of a powerful 
rival in Harry, as his friends were very able, and had a good 
deal of interest. I therefore proposed a partnership to him, 



176 franklin's select works. [173f 

which he fortunately for me rejected with scorn. He was yery 
proud, dressed like a gentleman, lived expensively, took much 
diversion and pleasure abroad, ran in debt, and neglected his 
business ; upon which all business left him, and, finding nothing to 
do, he followed Keimer to Barbadoes, taking the printing-house 
.with him. There this apprentice employed his former master 
as a journeyman ; they quarrelled often, and Harry went con- 
tinually behindhand, and at length was obliged to sell his types 
and return to country work in Pennsylvania. The person who 
bought them employed Keimer to use them, but a few years 
after he died. 

There remained now no other printer in Philadelphia, but the 
old Bradford; but he was rich and easy, did a little in the 
business by straggling hands, but was not anxious about it. 
However, as he held the post-office, it was imagined he had 
better opportunities of obtaining news, his paper was thought a 
better distributer of advertisements than mine, and therefore 
had many more; which was a profitable thing to him, and a dis- 
advantage to me. For, though I did indeed receive and send 
papers by the post, yet the public opinion was otherwise ; for 
what I did send was by bribing the riders, who took them 
privately ; Bradford being unkind enough to forbid it, which 
occasioned some resentment on my part ; and I thought so mean- 
ly of the practice, that, when I afterwards came into his situa- 
tion, I took care never to imitate it. 

I had hitherto continued to board with Godfrey, who lived in 
a part of my house with his wife and children, and had one side 
of the shop for his glazier's business, though he worked little, 
being always a])sorbed in his mathematics. Mrs. Godfrey pro- 
jected a match for me with a relation's daughter, took oppor- 
tunities of bringing us often together, till a serious courtship on 
my part ensued ; the girl being in herself very deserving. The 
old folks encouraged me by continual invitations to supper, and 
by leaving us together, till at length it was time to explain, 
Mrs. Godfrey managed our little treaty. I let her know that I 
expected as much money with their daughter as would pay off 
my remaining debt for the printing-house ; which I believe was 
not then above a hundred pounds. She brought me word they 
had no such sum to spare ; I said they might mortgage their 
house in the loan-office. The answer to this, after some days, 
was, that they did not approve the match; that, on inquiry of 
Bradford, they had been informed the printing business was not 
a profitable one, the types would soon be worn out and more 
wanted ; that Keimer and David Harry had failed, one after the 



iET. 24.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 177 

other, and I should probably soon follow them ; and therefore I 
was forbidden the house, and the daughter was shut up. 

Whether this was a real change of sentiment, or only artifice, 
on a supposition of our being too far engaged in affection to re- 
tract, and therefore that we should steal a marriage, which 
would leave them at liberty to give or withhold what they 
pleased, I know not. But I suspected the motive, resented it, 
and went no more. Mrs. Godfrey brought me afterwards some 
more favorable accounts of their disposition, and would have 
drawn me on again ; but I declared absolutely ray resolution to 
have nothing more to do with that flimily. This was resented 
by the Godfreys, we differed, and they removed, leaving me the 
whole house, and I resolved to take no more inmates. 

But this affair having turned my thoughts to marriage, I 
looked round me and made overtures of acquaintance in other 
places ; but soon found that, the business of a printer being 
generally thought a poor one, I was not to expect money with a 
wife, unless with such a one as I should not otherwise think 
agreeable. In the mean time, that hard to be governed passion 
of youth had hurried me frequently into intrigues with low 
women that fell in my way, which were attended with some ex- 
pense and great inconvenience, besides a continual risk to my 
health by a distemper, which of all things I dreaded, though by 
great good luck I escaped it. 

A friendly correspondence as neighbors had continued be 
tween me and Miss Bead's family, who all had a regard for me 
from the time of my first lodging in their house. I was often 
invited there and consulted in their affiiirs, wherein I sometimes 
was of service. I pitied poor Miss Bead's unfortunate situation, 
who was generally dejected, seldom cheerful, and avoided com- 
pany. I considered my giddiness and inconstancy when in 
London as in a great degree the cause of her unhappiness ; 
though the mother was- good enough to think the fault more her 
own than mine, as she had prevented our marrying before I went 
thitlier, and persuaded the other match in my absence. Our 
mutual affection was revived, but there were now great objections 
to our union. That match was indeed looked upon as invalid, a 
preceding wife being said to be living in England ; but this 
could not easily be proved, because of the distance, &c. ; and, 
though there was a report of his death, it was not certain. Then^ 
though it should be true, he had left many debts, which his sue 
cessor might be called upon to pay. We ventured, however 
over all these difficulties, and I took her to wife Sept. 1st, 1730 
J»[one of the inconveniences happened that we had apprehended 



178 FKAI^KLIN'S select WOUKS. [ITS^i. 

slie proTed a good and faithful helpmate, assisted me much by 
attending to the shop ; we throve together, and ever mutually 
endeavored to make each other happy. Thus I corrected that 
great erratum, as well as I could. 

About this time, our club meeting, not at a tavern, but in a 
little room of Mr. Grace's, set apart for that purpose, a propo- 
sition was made by me, that, since our books were often referred 
to in our disquisitions upon the queries, it might be convenient 
to us to have them all together where we met, that upon occasion 
they might be consulted ; and by thus clubbing our books in a 
common library, we should, while we liked to keep them together, 
have each of us the advantage of using the books of all the 
other members, which would be nearly as beneficial as if each 
owned the whole. It v/as liked and agreed to, and we filled one 
end of the room with such books as we could best spare. The 
number was not so great as we expected ; and, though they 
had been of great use, yet some inconveniences occurring for 
want of due care of them, the collection after about a year was 
separated, and each took his books home again. 

And now I set on foot my first project of a public nature, that 
for a subscription library. I drew up the proposals, got them 
put into form by our great scrivener, Brockden, and, by the help 
of my friends in the Junto, procured fifty subscribers of forty 
shillings each to begin with, and ten shillings a year for fifty 
years, the term our company was to continue. "We afterwards 
obtained a charter, the company being increased to one hundred. 
This was the mother of all the North American subscription 
libraries, now so numerous. It is become a great thing itself, 
and continually goes on increasing. These libraries have im- 
proved the general conversation of the Americans, made the 
common tradesmen and farmers as intelligent as most gentlemen 
from other countries, and perhaps have contributed in some 
degree to the stand so generally made throughout the colonies 
in defence of their privileges.'^ 

* Here the Twyford letter, forming the Fii'st Part of the Autobiography, 
ends. The Second Part, of which the next chapter is the commencement, 
was begun at Passy, twelve years after the First was written, namely, in 
1783. It is preceded by the following paragraphs, referring to letters from 
Benjamin Vaughan and Abel James, urging Franklin to resume his Auto- 
biography, the First Part of which they had read in manuscript : 

" It is some time since I received the above letters, but I have been too 
busy till now tu think of complying with the request they contain. It might, 
too, be much better done if I were at home among my papers, which would 
aid my memory, and help to ascertain dates; but my return being uncertain, 
and having just now a little leisure, I will endeavor to recollect and write 
wha^; I can; if I live to get home, it may there be corrected and improyed. 



^T. 25.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 179 



CHAPTER Y. 

Second Part of the Autobiography — The Philadelphia Library — A Good 
Wife — Family Habits — Keligious Views — Moral Perfection aimedat — 
A Group of Virtues — Scheme for their Attainment — Mottoes and Prayers 
— Story of the Speckled Axe — Result of the Scheme — Project of a 
Treatise on the Art of Virtue. 

At the time I established myself in Pennsylvania, there was 
not a good bookseller's shop in any of the colonies to the south- 
ward of Boston. In New York and Philadelphia, the printers 
were indeed stationers, but they sold only paper, almanacs, 
ballads, and a few common school-books. Those who loved read- 
ins; were obliored to send for their books from England ; the 
members of the Junto had each a few. We had left the ale-house, 
where we first met, and hired a room to hold our club in. I 
proposed that we should all of us bring our books to that room ; 
where they would not only be ready to consult in our conferences, 
but become a common benefit, each of us being at liberty to 
borrow such as he wished to read at home. This was accordingly 
done, and for some time contented us. 

Finding the advantage of this little collection, I proposed to 
render the benefit from the books more common, by commencing 
a public subscription library. I drew a sketch of the plan and 
rules that would be necessary, and got a skilful conveyancer, 
Mr. Charles Brockden, to put the whole in form of articles of 
agreement to be subscribed ; by which each subscriber engaged 
to pay a certain sum down for the first purchase of the books, 
and an annual contribution for increasing them. 

So few were the readers at that time in Philadelphia, and the 
majority of us so poor, that I was not able, with great industry, 
to find more than fifty persons, mostly young tradesmen, willing 
to pay down for this purpose forty shillings each, and ten 
shillings per annum. With this little fund we began. The 
books were imported ; the library was opened one day in the 
week for lending them to the subscribers, on their promissory 
notes to pay double the value if not duly returned. The insti- 
tution soon manifested its utility, was imitated by other towns, 

" Not having any copy here of what is already written, I know not whether 
an account is given of the means I used to establish the Philadelphia public 
library,- which from a small beginning is now become so considerable, — 
though I remember to have come down to near the time of that transaction 
(1730). I Avill therefore begin here with an account of it, which may be 
struck put if found to have been already given." 



180 franklin's select works. [173L 

and in other provinces. The libraries were augmented by 
donations ; reading became fashionable ; and our people, having 
no public amusements to divert their attention from study, 
became better acquainted with books ; and in a few years were 
observed by strangers to be better instructed and more intelli- 
gent than people of the same rank generally are in other countries. 

When we were about to sign the above-mentioned articles, 
which were to be binding on us, our heirs, &c., for fifty years, 
Mr. Brockden, the scrivener, said to us, " You are young men, 
but it is scarcely probable that any of you will live to see the 
expiration of the term fixed in the instrument." A number of 
us, however, are "yet living, but the instrument was after a few 
3' ears rendered null, by a charter that incorporated and gave 
perpetuity to the company. =^ 

The objections and reluctances I met with, in soliciting the 
subscriptions, made me soon feel the impropriety of presenting 
one's self as the proposer of any useful project, that might be 
supposed to raise one's reputation in the smallest degree above 
that of one's neighbors, when one has need of their asisistance to 
accomplish that project. I therefore put myself as much as I 
could out of sight, and stated it as a scheme of a number of 
friends, who had requested me to go about and propose it to 
such as they thought lovers of reading. In this way my aifair 
went on more smoothly, and I ever after practised it on such 
occasions; and, from my frequent successes, can heartily recom- 
mend it. The present little sacrifice of your vanity will after- 
wards be amply repaid. If it remains a while uncertain to whom 
the merit belongs, some one more vain than yourself may be 
encouraged to claim it, and then even envy will be disposed to do 
you justice, by plucking those assumed feathers, and restoring 
them to their right owner. 

This library afforded me the means of improvement by con- 
stant study, for which I set apart an hour or two each day ; and 
thus repaired in some degree the loss of the learned education 
my father once intended for me. Reading was the only amutfc- 
ment I allowed myself. I spent no time in taverns, games, or 
frolics of any kind ; and my industry in my business continued 
as indefatigable as it was necessary. I was indebted for my 
printing-house ; I had a young family coming on to be educated, 
and I had two competitors to contend with for business, who 
were established in the place before me. 

* This library, founded in 1T31, was incorporated in 1742. It now num- 
bers upwards of sixty thousand volumes. A marble statue of Franklin, occu- 
pying a niche in front of the present building, was presented to the company 
by Mr. Wm. Bingham. It was executed in Italy at a cost of five hundred 
gnrueas. 



MY. 25.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 181 

My circumstances, however, grew daily easier. My original 
habits of frugality continuing, and my father having, among his 
instructions to me when a boy, frequently repeated a proverb of 
Solomon, " Seest thou a man diligerit in his callings he shall 
staiid before kings,' he shall not stand before mean men,'''' I 
thence considered industry as a means of obtaining wealth and 
distinction, which encouraged me ; though I did not think that 
I should ever literally stand before kings, — which, however, has 
since happened ; for I have stood before five, and even had the 
honor of sitting down with one, the King of Denmark, to dinner.=^ 

We have an English proverb that says, •' He that ivould 
thrive must ask his wifey It was lucky for me that I had one 
as much disposed to industry and frugality as myself. She 
assisted me cheerfully in my business, folding and stitching 
pamphlets, tending shop, purchasing old linen rags for the paper- 
makers, &c. We kept no idle servants, our table was plain and 
simple, our furniture of the cheapest. For instance, my break- 
fast was for a longtime bread and milk (no tea), and I ate it out 
of a twopenny earthen porringer, with a pewter spoon. But 
mark how luxury will enter families, and make a progress, in 
spite of principle ; being called one morning to breakfast, I 
found it in a china bowl, with a spoon of silver ! They had been 
bought for me without my knowledge by my wife, and had cost 
her the enormous sum of three and twenty shillings ; for which 
she had no other excuse or apology to make, but that she thought 
her husband deserved a silver spoon and china bowl as well as 
any of his neighbors. This was the first appearance of plate 
and china in our house ; which afterwards, in a course of years, 
as our wealth increased, augmented gradually to several hundred 
pounds in value. 

I had been religiously educated as a Presbyterian ; but, 
though some of the dogmas of that persuasion, such as the eternal 
decrees of God, election, reprobation, ^c, appeared to me unin- 
telligible, others doubtful, and I early absented myself from the 
public assemblies of the sect, Sunday being my studying day, [ 
never was without some religious principles. I never doubted, 
for instance, the existence of a Deity ; that he made the world 
and governed it by his providence ; that the most acceptable 
service of God was the doing good to man ; that our souls are 
immortal ; and that all crimes will be punished, and virtue 
rewarded, either here or hereafter. These 1 esteemed the essen- 

* The king, being on a visit to London, made the acouaintance of 
Franklin, who dined with him, Oct. 1, 1708, in the company of foreign 
ambassadors and other persons of distinction. 

10 



182 franklin's select works. [1732 

tials of every religion ; and, being to be found in all the religions 
we had in our country, I respected them all, though with difierent 
degrees of respect, as I found them more or less mixed with 
other articles, which, without any tendency to inspire, promote, 
or confirm morality, served principally to divide us, and make us 
unfriendly to one another. This respect to all, with an opinion 
that the worst had some good effects, induced me to avoid all 
discourse that might tend to lessen the good opinion another 
might have of his own religion ; and as our province increased 
in people, and new places of worship were continually wanted, 
and generally erected by voluntary contribution, my mite for 
such purpose, whatever might be the sect, was never refused. ^ 

Though I seldom attended any public worship,^ I had still 
an opinion of its propriety, and of its utility when rightly con- 
ducted, and I regularly paid my annual subscription for the 
support of the only Presbyterian minister or meeting we had in 
Philadelphia. He used to visit me sometimes as a friend, and 
admonish me to attend his administrations ; and I was now and 
then prevailed on to do so, — once for five Sundays successively. 
Had he been in my opinion a good preacher, perhaps I might 
have continued, notwithstanding the occasion I had for the 
Sunday's leisure in my course of study; but his discourses were 
chiefly either polemic arguments, or explications of the peculiar 
doctrines of our sect, and were all to me very dry, uninteresting, 
and unedifying, since not a single moral principle was incul- 
cated or enforced ; their aim seeming to be rather to make us 
Fy'esbyterians than good citizens. 

At length he took for his text that verse of the fourth chapter 
to the Philippians, " Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are 
true, honest, just, pure, lovely, or of good report, if there be any 
virtue, or any praise, think on these things" And I imagined, 
in a sermon on such a text, we could not miss of having; some 
morality. But he confined himself to five points only, as meant 
by the apostle : 1. Keeping holy the Sabbath day. 2. Being 
diligent in reading the holy Scriptures. 3. Attending duly the 
public worship, 4. Partaking of the Sacrament. 5. Paying a 
due respect to Grod's ministers. These might be all good things; 
but, as they were not the kind of good things that I expected 
from that text, I despaired of ever meeting with them from any 

* In a letter, Nov. 8, 1764, to his daughter, he says: " Go constantly to 
church, whoever preaches. The act of devotion in the Common Prayer 
Book is your principal business there, and, if properly attended to, will do 
more towards amending the heart than sermons genei'ally can do. 
Yet I do not mean you should despise sei'mons, even of the preachers you 
dislike ; for the discourse is often much better than tiie man, as sweet ani 
3lear waters come through very dirty earth." 



iET. 26.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY, 183 

other, was disgusted, and attended his preaching no more. I had 
some years before composed a little liturgy, or form of prayer,"^ 
for my own private use (in 1728), entitled Articles of Belief 
and Acts of Religion. I returned to the use of this, and went 
no more to the public assemblies. My conduct might be blama- 
ble, but I leave it without attempting further to excuse it ; my 
present purpose being to relate facts, and not to make apologies 
for them. 

It was about this time I conceived the bold and arduous 
project of arriving at moral perfection. I wished to live without 
committing any fault at any time, and to conquer all that either 
natural inclination, custom or company, might lead me intcJ. 
As I knew, or thought I knew, what was right and wrong, I did 
not see why I might not always do the one and avoid the other. 
But I soon found I had undertaken a task of more difficulty 
than I had imagined. While my attention was taken up and 
care employed in guarding against one fault, I was often sur- 
prised by another ; habit took the advantage of inattention ; 
inclination was sometimes too strong for reason. I concluded, at 
length, that the mere speculative conviction, that it was our 
interest to be completely virtuous, was not sufficient to prevent 
our slipping; and that the contrary habits must be broken, and 
good ones acquired and established, before we can have any 
dependence on a steady, uniform rectitude of conduct. For this 
purpose, I therefore tried the following method : 

In the various enumerations of the moral virtues I had met 
with in my reading, I found the catalogue more or less numer- 
ous, as different writers included more or fewer ideas under the 
same name. Temperance, for example, was by some confined 
to eating and drinking ; while by others it was extended to 
mean the moderating every other pleasure, appetite, inclination 
or passion, bodily or mental, even to our avarice and ambition. 
I proposed to myself, for the sake of clearness, to use rather 
more names, with fewer ideas annexed to each, than a few names 

* This paper is dated Xov. 20th, 1V28; and bears the marks of juvenility 
in the style. In it Franklin avows his belief in " one supreme, most perfect 
Being," and prays to "be preserved from atheism, impiet}', and profane- 
ness." The following passage occurs under the head of " Thanks " : 

" For peace and liberty, for food and raiment, for corn, and wine, and 
milk, and every kind of healthful nourishment, — Good God, I thank Thee! 

" For the common benefits of air and light, for useful fire and delicious 
water, — Good God, I thank Thee ! 

" For knowledge, and literature, and every useful art; for my friends and 
their prosperity, and for the fewness of my enemies, — Good God, I thank 
Thee! 

"For all thy innumerable benefits; for life, and reason, and the use of 
speech; for health, and joy, and every pleasant hour, — My Good God, I 
thank Thee." 



184 franklin's select works. [1733 

with more ideas ; and I included, under thirteen names of vir- 
tues, all that at that time occurred to me as necessary or desir- 
able ; and annexed to each a short precept, which fully expressed 
the extent I gave to its meaning. 

These names of virtues, with their precepts, were : 

1. Temperance. — Eat not to dulness ; drink not to eleva- 
tion. 

2. Silence. — Speak not but what may benefit others or your- 
self; avoid trifling conversation. 

3. Order. — Let all your things have their places; let each 
part of your business have its time. 

4. Resolution. — Resolve to perform what you ought; per- 
form without fail what you resolve. 

5. Frugality. — Make no expense but to do good to others 
or yourself; that is, waste nothing. 

6. Industry. — Lose no time; be always employ :d in some- 
thing useful ; cut off all unnecessary actions. 

7. Sincerity. — Use no hurtful deceit; think innocently and 
justly ; and, if you speak, speak accordingly. 

8. Justice. — Wrong none by doing injuries, or omitting the 
benefits that are your duty. 

9. Moderation. — Avoid extremes ; forbear resenting injuries 
so much as you think they deserve. 

10. Cleanliness. — Tolerate no uncleanliness in body, clothes, 
or habitation. 

11. Tranquillity. — Be not disturbed at trifles, or at acci- 
dents common or unavoidable. 

12. Chastity 

13. Humility. — Imitate Jesus and Socrates. 

My intention being to acquire the habitude of all these virtues, 
I judged it would be well not to distract my attention by attempt- 
ing the whole at once, but to fix it on one of them at a time ; 
and, when I should be master of that, then to proceed to another; 
and so on, till I should have gone through the thirteen. And, 
as the previous acquisition of some might facilitate the acquisi- 
tion of certain others, I arranged them with that view, as they 
stand above. Temperance first, as it tends to procure thut 
coohiess and clearness of head, which is so necessary where con- 
stant vigilance was to be kept up, and a guard maintained 
against the unremitting attraction of ancient habits, and the 
force of perpetual temptations. This being acquired and estab- 
lished. Silence would be more easy ; and my desire being to gain 
knowledge at the same time that I improved in virtue, and consider- 
ing that yi conversation it was obtained rather by the use of the 
ear than of the tongue, and therefore wishing to break a habit 
1 was getting into of prattling, punning and jesting, which only 



iET. 27. J 



HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



185 



made me acceptable to trifling company, I gave Sile?ice the 
second place. This, and the next, Order, I expected would 
allow me more time for attending to m}^ project and my studies. 
Resolutio7i, once become habitual, would keep me firm in my 
endeavors to obtain all the subsequent virtues ; Frugality and 
Industry, relieving me from my remaining debt, and producing 
affluence and independence, would make more easy the practice 
of Sincerity and Justice, &c. &c. Conceiving, then, that, agree- 
ably to the advice of Pythagoras in his Golden Verses, daily 
examination would be necessary, I contrived the following- 
method for conducting the examination : 

I made a little book, in which I allotted a page for each of 
the virtues. I ruled each page with red ink, so as to have seven 
columns, one for each day of the week, marking each column 
with a letter for the day. I crossed these columns with thirteen 
red lines, markino; the beo-innins; of each line with the first letter 
of one of the virtues ; on which line, and in its proper column, 
I might mark, by a little black spot, every fault I found, upon 
examination, to have been committed respecting that virtue, upon 
that day.^ 

FORM OF THE PAGES. 

TEMPERANCE. 
Eat not to dulness : drink not to elevation. 





Sunday. 


Monday. 


Tuesday. 


Wed'ay. 


Thur'ay. 


Friday. 


Sat 'ay. 


Tenip'ce. 














1 


Silence. * 


* 




* 


1 * 




Order. 


* 
* 


* 


* 




* 


* 


* 


Resol'n. 




* 






* 




Frug'ty. 




* 






* 




Indus'y. 






* 










Sincerity 
















Justice. 














1 
i 


Moder'n. 


i 






1 




Clean'ss.j | 


1 






Tran'ity.i | 


i 1 






Chastity.' 1 


1 ' 






Hum'y. i i 


! I 


1 



* This little boolc is dated Sunday, July Ist^ 17o3. 

=^16 



186 franklin's select works. [1733 

I determined to give a week's strict attention to each of the 
virtues successively. Thus, in the first week, my great guard 
was to avoid every the least offence against Temperance ; leav- 
ing the other virtues to their ordinary chance, only marking 
every evening the faults of the day. Thus, if in the first week 
I could keep my first line, marked T, clear of spots, I supposed 
the habit of that virtue so much strengthened, and its opposite 
weakened, that I might venture extending my attention to in- 
clude the next, and for the following week keep both lines clear 
of spots. Proceeding thus to the last, I could get through a 
course complete in thirteen weeks, and four courses in a year. 
And like him who, having a garden to weed, does not attempt 
to eradicate all the bad herbs at once, which would exceed his 
reach and his strength, but works on one of the beds at a time, 
and, having accomplished the first, proceeds to a second ; so I 
should have, I hoped, the encouraging pleasure of seeing on my 
pages the progress made in virtue, by clearing successively my 
lines of their spots, till, in the end, by a number of courses, I 
should be happy in viewing a clean book, after a thirteen weeks' 
daily examination. 

This my little book had for its motto these lines from Addi- 
son's Cato: 

" Here will I hold. If there 's a Power above us 
(And that there is, all nature cries aloud 
Through all her works), He must delight in virtue; 
And that which He delights in must be happy." 

Another, from Cicero : 

" vitse Philosophia dux ! virtutum indagatrix expultrixque vitiorum! 
Unus dies, bene et ex pra^ceptis tuis actus, peccanti immortalitati est ante- 
ponendus." 

Another, from the Proverbs of Solomon, speaking of wisdom 
or virtue : 

" Length of days is in her right hand, and in her left hand riches and 
honor. Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace." 

And, conceiving God to be the fountain of wisdom, I thought 
it right and necessary to solicit his assistance for obtaining it. 
To this end, I formed the following little prayer, which was pre- 
fixed to my tables of examination, for daily use : 

*' powerful Goodness ! bountiful Father ! merciful Guide ! Increase in 
me that wisdom which discovers my truest interest. Strengthen my resolu- 
tion to perform what that wisdom dictates. Accept my kind offices to thy 
other children, as the only return in my power for thy continual favors 
to me." 



JEH 27.] 



HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



187 



I used also sometimes a little prayer which I took from Thom- 
son's Poems, namely : 

" Father of light and life, thou Good Supreme ! 
teach me what is good: teach me Thyself! 
Save me from folly, vanity, and vice, 
From every low pursuit; and feed my soul 
With knowledge, conscious peace, and virtue pure; 
Sacred, substantial, never-fading bliss ! " 

The precept of Order requiring that every part of my business 
shaidd have its allotted time, one page in my little book con- 
tained the following scheme of employment for the twenty-four 
hours of a natural day. 

Scheme. 



Morning. 
The Question. What 
I do this day 1 



good shall 6 



Rise, wash, and address Pow- 
erful Goodness ! Contrive day's 
business, and take the resolution 
of the day ; prosecute the pres- 
ent study, and breakfast. 



Work. 



Noon. 



Afternoon. 



Evening. 
The Question. 
I done to-day 1 



Night. 



What good have 



Read, or look over my accounts, 
and dine. 



W^ork. 

Put things in their places.' 
Supper. Music or diversion, or 
conversation. Examination of the 
day. 



> Sleep. 



I entered upon the execution of this plan for self-examination, 
and continued it, with occasional intermissions, for some time. I 
was surprised to find myself so much fuller of faults than I had 
imagined ; but I had the satisftiction of seeing them diminish. 
To avoid the trouble of renewing now and then my little book, 
which, by scraping out the marks on the paper of old faults to 
make room for new ones in a new course, became full of holes, 
I transferred my tables and prece[its to the ivory leaves of a 
memorandum book, on which the lines were drawn with red ink, 



188 franklin's select works. [1733^ 

that made a durable stain ; and on those lines I marked mj 
faults with a black-lead jDencil ; which marks I could easily 
wipe out with a wet sponge. After a while I went through one 
course only in a year; and afterwards only one in several years; 
till at length I omitted them entirely, being employed in voyages 
and business abroad, with a multiplicity of affairs, that inter- 
fered ; but I always carried my little book with me. 

My scheme of Order gave me the most trouble ; and I found 
that, though it might be practicable where a man's business was 
such as to leave him the disposition of his time, — that of a jour- 
neyman printer, for instance, — it was not possible to be exactly 
observed by a master, who must mix with the world, and often 
receive people of business at their own hours. Order, too, with 
regard to places for things, papers, &c., I found extremely diffi- 
cult to acquire. I had not been early accustomed to metJiod, 
and, having an exceedingly good memory, I was not so sensible 
of the inconvenience attendina; want of method. This article, 
therefore, cost me much paniful attention, and my taults in it 
vexed me so much, and I made so little progress in amendment, 
and had such frequent relapses, that I was almost ready to give 
up the attempt, and content myself with a faulty character in 
that respect. Like the man, who, in buying an axe of a smith, 
my neighbor, desired to have the whole of its surface as bright 
as the edofe. The smith consented to grind it bright for him, if 
he would turn the wheel ; he turned while the smith pressed the 
broad face of the axe hard and heavily on the stone, which made 
the turning of it very fatiguing. The man came every now and 
then from the w^heel to see how the work went on ; and at length 
would take his axe as it was, without further grinding. " JS^o " 
said the smith, " turn on, turn on, we shall have it bright by and 
by ; as yet it is only speckled." " Yes," said the man, " but 
I think I like a speckled axe best." And I believe this may 
have been the case with many, who, having, for want of some 
such means as I employed, found the difficulty of obtaining good 
and breaking bad habits in other points of vice and virtue, have 
given up the struggle, and -concluded that ^^ a speckled axe is 
bestJ^ For something, that pretended to be reason, was every 
now and then suggesting to me that such extreme nicety as I 
exacted of myself might be a kind of foppery in morals, which, 
if it were known, would make me ridiculous; that a perfect 
character might be attended with the inconvenience of being 
envied and hated ; and that a benevolent man should allow a 
few faults in himself, to keep his friends in countenance^. 

In truth, I found myself incorrigible with respect to Order ; 



JET. 27.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 189 

and now 1 am grown old, and my memory bad, I feel very 
sensibly the want of it. But on the whole, though I never ar- 
rived at the perfection I had been so ambitious of obtaining, but 
fell far short of it, yet I was, by the endeavor, a better and a 
happier man than I otherwise should have been, if I had not 
attempted it ; as those who aim at perfect writing by imitating 
the engraved copies, though they never reach the wished-for 
excellence of those copies, their hand is mended by the endeavor, 
and is tolerable while it continues fair and leg-ible. 

It may be well my pcsterity should be informed that to this 
little artifice, with the blessing of God, their ancestor owed the 
constant felicity of his life, down to his seventy-ninth year, in 
which this is written. What reverses may attend the remainder 
is in the hand of Providence ; but, if thej' arrive, the reflection 
on past happiness enjoyed ought to help his bearing them with 
more resignation. To Teviperance he ascribes his long-con- 
tinued health, and what is still left to him of a good constitu- 
tion ; to Industry and Frugality, the early easiness of his 
circumstances and acquisition of his fortune, with all that 
knowledge that enabled him to be a useful citizen, and obtained 
for him some degree of reputation among the learned ; to Sin- 
cerity and Justice, the confidence of his country, and the honor- 
able employs it conferred upon him ; and to the joint influence 
of the whole mass of the virtues, even in the imperfect state he 
was able to acquire them, all that evenness of temper, and that 
cheerfulness in conversation, which makes his company still 
sought for, and agreeable even to his young acquaintance. I 
hope, therefore, that some of my descendants may follow the 
example, and reap the benefit. 

It will be remarked that, though my scheme was not wholly 
without religion, there was in it no mark of any of the dis- 
tinguishing tenets of any particular sect. I had purposely 
avoided them ; for, being fully persuaded of the utility and ex- 
cellency of my method, and that it might be serviceable to people 
in all religions, and intending some time or other to publish it, 
I would not have anything in it that should prejudice any one, 
of any sect, against it. I proposed writing a little comment on 
each virtue, in which I would have shown the advantages of 
possessing it, and the mischiefs attending its opposite vice ; I 
should have called my book=^ The Art of Virtue, because it 
would have shown the means and manner of obtaining virtue, 

*In a letter, Xov. 1T33, to Lord Karnes, he intimates that he has not 
renounced his plan of completing the work. " I have, from time to time," 
he says, " made and caused to be made esperimentf «»f the method, vith 



• 



190 franklin's select works. [1733. 

which would have (llstingulshed it from the mere exhortation to 
be good, that does not instruct and indicate the means, but is 
like the apostle's man of verbal charity, who, without showing 
to the naked and hungry how or where they might get clothes 
or victuals, only exhorted them to be fed and clothed. James 
2: 15, 16. 

But it so happened that my intention of writing and publish- 
ing this comment was never fulfilled. I had, indeed, from time 
to time, put down short hints of the sentiments and reasonings 
to be made use of in it ; some of which I have still by me ; but 
the necessary close attention to private business in the earlier 
part of life, and public business since, have occasioned my post- 
poning it. For, it being connected in my mind with a great 
and extensive project, that required the whole man to execute, 
and which an unforeseen succession of employs prevented my 
attending to, it has hitherto remained unfinished. 

In this piece it was my design to explain and enforce this 
doctrine, tJiat vicious actions are 7iot hurtful because they are 
forbidden, but forbidden because they are hurtful, the nature of 
man alone considered ; that it was, therefore, every one's interest 
to be virtuous, who wished to be happy even in this world ; and 
I should from this circumstance (there being always in the world 
a number of rich merchants, nobility, states and princes, who 
have need of honest instruments for the management of their 
afi'airs, and such being so rare) have endeavored to convince 
young persons that no qualities are so likely to make a poor 
man's fortune as those of probity and integrity. 

My list of virtues contained at first but twelve ; but a Quaker 
friend having kindly informed me that I was generally thought 
proud, that my pride showed itself frequently in conversation, — 
that I was not content with being in the right when discussing 
any point, but was overbearing, and rather insolent, of which he 
convinced me by mentioning several instances, — I determined to 
endeavor to cure myself, if I could, of this vice or folly, among 
the rest ; and I added Humility to my list, giving an extensive 
meaning to the word. 

I cannot boast of much success in acquiring the reality of 
this virtue, but 1 had a good deal with regard to the appearance 
of it. I made it a rule to forbear all direct contradiction to 
the sentiments of others, and all positive assertion of my own. 
I even forbid myself, agreeably to the old laws of our Junto, the 

success. The materials have been growing ever since. The form only is 
now to be given ; in which I propose employing my first leisure after my 
return to my other country." He never found the leisure he anticipated. 



^T. 27.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 191 

use of every word or expression in the language that imported a 
fixed opinion ; such as certainly, undoubtedly, &c., and I adopted 
instead of them, / conceice, I apprehend, or I imagine, a thing 
to be so and so ; or it so appears to me at present. When 
another asserted something that I thought an error, I denied 
myself the pleasure of contradicting him abruptly, and of show- 
ing immediately some absurdity in his proposition ; and in 
answering I began by observing that, in certain cases or circum- 
stances, his opinion would be right, but in the present case there 
appeared ov seemed to me some difference, &c. 

I soon found the advantage of this change in my manners ; 
the conversations I engaged in went on more pleasantly. The 
modest way in which I proposed my opinions procured them a 
readier reception and less contradiction ; I had less mortifica- 
tion when I was found to be in the wrong ; and I more easily 
prevailed with others to give up their mistakes and join with 
me, when I happened to be in the right. 

And this mode, which I at first put on with some violence to 
natural inclination, became at length easy, and so habitual to 
me, that perhaps for the last fifty years no one has ever heard a 
dogmatical expression escape me. x\nd to this habit (after my 
character of integrity) I think it principally owing that I had 
early so much weight with my fellow-citizens when I proposed 
new institutions or alterations in the old ; and so much influence 
in public councils, when I became a member ; for I was but a 
bad speaker, never eloquent, subject to much hesitation in my 
choice of words, hardly correct in language, and yet I generally 
carried my point. 

In reality, there is perhaps no one of our natural passions so 
hard to subdue as pride. l)isguise it, struggle with it, stitie it, 
mortify it as much as one pleases, it is still alive, and will every 
now and then peep out and show itself; you will see it, perhaps, 
often in this history. For, even if I could conceive that I had 
completely overcome it, I should probably be proud of my 
humility.^ 

* Here concludes what was written at Passy. In resuming his Autobi- 
ography, Fraukliu prefaced the ensuing chapter with this " Memorandum ": 
" 1 am now about to write at home (Philadeli^hia), August 17b8, but 
oannot have the help uxpected from my papers, many of them being lost in 
the war. I have, however, found the following." He then proceeds as in 
the text. 



192 franklin's select works. Ll'733 



CIIAPTEE YI. 

Plan of a United Party for Virtue — Poor Richard's Almanac — Summary 
of Maxims — Mode of Conducting his Newspaper — -Caution to Young 
Printers — Hint to Young Women — Rev. Mr. Ilemi^hill — On the Study 
of Languages — Visit to Boston — To his Brother James at Newport — 
The Junto — Clerk of the Assembly — Postmaster — Public Preforms 
— The Watch — Eorms the first Fire-company. 

Having mentioned a great and extensive 'project, whicli I had 
conceived, it seems proper that some account should be here 
given of that project and its object. Its first rise in my mind 
appears in the following little paper, accidentally preserved, 
namely : 

" Observations on my reading history, in the Library, May 
9th, 1731. 

"That the great afiairs of the world, the wars, and revolutions, 
are carried on and effected by parties. 

" That the view of these parties is their present general interest, 
or what they take to be such. 

" That the different views of these different parties occasion 
all confusion. 

" That while a party is carrying on a general design, each man 
has his particular private interest in view. 

" That as soon as a party has gained its general point, each 
member becomes intent upon his particular interest ; which, 
thwarting others, breaks that party into divisions, and occasions 
more confusion. 

" That few in public affairs act from a mere view of the good 
of their country, whatever they may pretend ; and, though their 
actings bring real good to their country, yet men primarily con- 
sidered that their own and their country's interests were united, 
and so did not act from a principle of benevolence. 

" That fewer still, in public affairs, act with a view to the 
good of mankind. 

" There seems to me at present to be great occasion for raising 
a United Party for Virtue, by forming the virtuous and good 
men of all nations into a regular body, to be governed by suit- 
able good and wise rules, which good and wise men may probably 
be more unanimous in their obedience to than common people 
are to common laws. 

" I at present think that whoever attempts this aright, and is 



^T. 27.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 193 

well qualified, cannot fail of pleasing God, and of meeting with 
success." 

Revolving tins project in my mind, as to be undertaken here- 
after, when my circumstances should aiford me the necessary 
leisure, I put down from time to time, on pieces of paper, such 
thoughts as occurred to me respecting it. Most of these are 
lost ; but I find one purporting to be the substance of an in- 
tended creed, containing, as I thought, the essentials of every 
known religion, and being free of everything that might shock 
the professors of any religion. It is expressed in these words, 
namely : 

" That there is one God, who made all things. 

" That he governs the world by his providence. 

" That he ought to be worshipped by adoration, prayer, and 
thanksgiving. 

" But that the most acceptable service to God is doing good 
to man. 

" That the soul is immortal. 

" And that God will certainly reward virtue and punish vice, 
either here or hereafter." 

My ideas at that time were, that the sect should be begun and 
spread at first among young and single men only ; that each 
person to be initiated should not only declare his assent to sucli 
creed, but should have exercised himself with the thirteen weeks' 
examination and practice of the virtues, as in the before-men- 
tioned model ; that the existence of such a society should be 
kept a secret, till it was become considerable, to prevent solicita- 
tions for the admission of improper persons ; but that the mem- 
bers should, each of them, search among his acquaintance for 
ingenious, well-disposed youths, to whom, with prudent caution, 
the scheme should be gradually communicated. That the mem- 
bers should engage to afibrd their advice, assistance and support, 
to each other in promoting one another's interest, business, and 
advancement in life. That, for distinction, we should be called 
TUE SOCIETY OF THE FREE AND EASY. Free, as being, by the 
general practice and habits of the virtues, free from the dominion 
of vice ; and particularly, by the practice of industry and 
frugality, free from debt, which exposes a man to constraint, 
and a species of slavery to his creditors. 

This is as much as I can now recollect of the project, except 
that I communicated it in part to two young men, who adopted 
it with some enthusiasm ; but my then narrow circumstances, 
and the necessity I was under of sticking close to my business, 
occasioned my postponing the further prosecution of it at that 

17 



19 i TRANKLIN'S select works. [1733. 

timo ; and my multifarious occupations, public and private, in- 
duced me to continue postponing, so that it has been omitted, 
till I have no longer strength or activity left sufficient for such 
an enterprise. Though I am still of opinion it was a practicable 
scheme, and might have been very useful, by forming a great 
number of good citizens; and I was not discouraged by the 
seeming magnitude of the undertaking, as I have always thought 
that one man of tolerable abilities may work great changes, and 
accomplish great affairs among mankind, if he first forms a good 
plan ; and, cutting off all amusements or other emploj^ments, that 
would divert his attention, makes the execution oi that same 
plan his sole study and business. 

In 1732, I first published my Almanac, under the name of 
Richard Saunders ; it was continued by me alDout twenty-five 
years, and commonly called Poor Richard's Almanac.^ I en- 
deavored to make it both entertaining and useful, and it accord- 
ingly came to be in such demand that I reaped considerable 
profit from it, vending annually near ten thousand. And ob- 
serving that it was generally read, scarce any neighborhood in 
the province being without it, I considered it as a proper vehicle 
for conveying instruction among the common people, who bought 
scarcely any other books. I therefore filled all the little spaces 
that occurred between the remarkable days in the Calendar with 
proverbial sentences, chiefly such as inculcated industry and fru- 
gality, as the means of procuring wealth, and thereby securing 
virtue ; it being more difficult for a man in want to act always 
honestly, as, to use here one of those proverbs, it is hard for 
an empty sack to stand upright. 

These proverbs, which contained the wisdom of many ages 
and nations, I assembled and formed into a connected discourse 
prefixed to the Almanac of 1757, as the harangue of a wise old 
man to t)ie people attending an auction. The bringing all these 
scattered counsels thus into a focus, enabled them to make greater 
impressions. The piece, being universally approved, was copied 
in all the newsj)apers of the American continent; reprinted in 
Britain on a large sheet of paper, to be stuck up in houses ; two 

>s*nslations were made of it in France, and great numbers bought 
^jV the clergy and gentry, to distribute gratis among their poor 

* Three editions of the first number were printed before the end of Jan- 
*.ry, 1733. The title-page bears the imprint : " By Richard Saunders, 
Philomat. Printed and sold by B. Franklin," The humor of these " an- 
nuals " is at times rather too broad for modern ears polite. Such \yas the 
sale of the work, that new editions had frequently to be put to press 
"Within the last five years, neat editions, giving the literary portion of sev 
eral numbars, have been published in New York. 



^T. 27.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 195 

parishioners and tenants. In Pennsylvania, as it discouraged 
useless expense in foreign superfluities, some thought it had its 
share of influence in producing that growing plenty of money 
which was observable for several years after its pu])lication. 

I considered my newspaper, also, as another means of commu- 
nicating instruction, and in that view frequently reprinted in it 
extracts from the Spectator^ and other moral writers ; and some- 
times published little pieces of my own, which had been first 
composed for reading in our Junto. Of these are a Socratic 
dialogue, tending to prove that, whatever might be his parts and 
abilities, a vicious man could not: properly be called a man of 
sense ; and a discourse on self-denial, showing that virtue was 
not secure till its practice became a habitude, and was free from 
the opposition of contrary inclinations. These may be found in 
the papers about the beginning of 1735. 

In the conduct of my newspaper, I carefully excluded all 
libelling and personal a})use, which is of late years become so 
disgraceful to our country. Whenever I was solicited to insert 
anything of that kind, and the writers pleaded, as they gene- 
rally did, the liberty of the press ; and that a ncAvspaper was 
like a stage-coach, in which any one who would pay had a 
right to a place ; my answer was, that I would print the piece 
separately if desired, and the author might have as many copies 
as he pleased to distribute himself; but that I would not take 
upon me to spread his detraction ; and that, having contracted 
with my subscribers to furnish them with what might be either 
useful or entertaining, I could not fill their papers with private 
altercation, in which they had no concern, without doing them 
manifest injustice. Now, many of our printers make no scruple 
of gratifying the malice of individuals by false accusations of 
the fairest characters among ourselves, augmenting animosity 
even to the producing of duels ; and are, moreover, so indiscreet 
as to print scurrilous reflections on the government of neighbor- 
ing states, and even on the conduct of our best national allies, 
which may be attended with the most pernicious consequences. 
These things I mention as a caution to young printers, and that 
they may be encouraged not to pollute their presses and disgrace 
their profession by such infamous practices, but refuse steadily ; 
as they may see, by my example, that such a course of conduct 
will not, on the whole, be injurious to their interests. 

In 1733, I sent one of my journeymen to Charleston, South 
Carolina, where a printer was wanting. I furnished him with a 
press and letters, on an agreement of partnership, by which I 
was to receive one-third of the profits of the business, paying 



19G franklin's select works. [1734. 

one-third of tlie expense. He was a man of learning, but igno- 
rant in matters of account ; and, though he sometimes made me 
remittances, I could get no account from him, nor any satisfac- 
tory state of our partnership while he lived. On his decease, 
the business was continued by his widow, who, being born and 
bred in Holland, where, as I have been informed, the knowledge 
of accounts makes a part of female education, she not only sent 
me as clear a statement as she could find of the transactions past, 
but continued to account with the greatest regularity and exact- 
ness every quarter afterwards ; and managed the business with 
such success, that she not only reputably brought up a family of 
children, but, at the expiration of the term, was able to purchase 
of me the printing-house, and establish her son in it. 

I mention this afi'air chiefly for the sake of recommending 
that branch of education for our young women, as likely to be 
of more use to them and their children, in case of widowhood, 
than either music or dancing, by preserving them from losses by 
imposition of crafty men, and enabling them to continue, per- 
haps, a profitable mercantile house, with established correspond- 
ence, till a son is grown up fit to undertake and go on with it ; 
to the lasting advantage and enriching of the family. 

About the year 1734, there arrived among us a young Pres- 
byterian preacher, named Hemphill, who delivered with a good 
voice, and apparently extempore, most excellent discourses ; 
which drew together considerable numbers, of different persua- 
sions, who joined in admiring them. Among the rest, I became 
one of his constant hearers, his sermons pleasing me, as they 
had little of the dogmatical kind, but inculcated stroiigl}^ the 
practice of virtue, or what, in the religious style, are called good 
works. Those, however, of our congregation who considered 
themselves as orthodox Presbyterians, disapproved his doctrine, 
and were joined by most of the old ministers, who arraigned 
him of heterodoxy before the synod, in order to have him 
silenced. I became his zealous partisan, and contributed all I 
could to raise a party in his favor, and combated for him a while 
with some hopes of success. There was much scribbling, pi'o and 
C071, upon the occasion; and finding that, though an elegant 
preacher, he was but a poor writer, I wrote for him two or three 
pamphlets, and a piece in the Gazette of April 1735. Those 
pamphlets, as is generally the case with controversial writings, 
though eagerly read at the time, were soon out of vogue, and I 
question whether a single copy of them now exists. 

During the contest, an unlucky occurrence hurt his cause ex- 
ceedingly. One of our adversaries having heard him preach a 



^T. 28.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 197 

Bermon that was much admired, thought he had somewhere read 
the sermon before, or at 'least a part of it. On searching, he 
found that part quoted at length, in one of the British Recieim, 
from a discourse of Dr. Foster's. This detection gave many of 
our party disgust, who accordingly abandoned his cause, and 
occasioned our more speedy discomfiture in the synod. I stuck 
by him, however ; I rather approved his giving us good sermons 
composed by others, than bad ones of his own manufacture ; 
though the latter was the practice of our common teachers. He 
afterwards acknowledged to me that none of those he preached 
were his own ; adding, that his memory was such as enabled 
him to retain and repeat any sermon after once reading only. 
On our defeat, he left us in search elsewhere of better fortune, 
and I quitted the congregation, never attending it after ; though 
I continued many years my subscription for the support of its 
ministers. 

I had begun in 1733 to study languages ; I soon made myself 
so much a master of the French as to be able to read the books 
in that lano;ua2:e with ease. I then undertook the Italian. An 
acquaintance, who was also learning it, used often to tempt me 
to play chess with him. Finding this took up too much of the 
time I had to spare for study, I at length refused to play any 
more, unless on this condition, that the victor in every game 
should have a right to impose a task, either of parts of the gram- 
mar to be got by heart, or in translations, which tasks the van- 
quished was to perform upon honor, before our next meeting. 
As we played pretty equally, we thus beat one another into that 
language. I afterwards, with a little pains-taking, acquired as 
much of the Spanish as to read their books also. 

I have already mentioned that I had only one year's instruc- 
tion in a Latin school, and that when very young, after which I 
neglected that language entirely. But, when I had attained an 
acquaintance with the French, Italian and Spanish, I was 
surprised to find, on looking over a Latin Testament, that I un- 
derstood more of that lan";uao;e than I had imacjined ; which 
encouraged me to apply myself again to the study of it, and I 
met with more success, as those preceding languages had greatly 
smoothed my way. 

From these circumstances I have thousrht there is some incon- 
sistency in our common mode of teaching languages. We are 
told that it is proper to begin first with the Latin, and, having 
acquired that, it will be more easy to attain those modern lan- 
guages which are derived from it ; and yet we do not begin with 
the Greek, in order more easily to acquire the Latin. It is 
17# 



198 franklin's select works. [1736 

true that, if we can clamber and get to the top of a staircase 
without using the steps, we shall more easily gain them in de- 
scending ; but certainly, if we begin with the lowest, we shall 
with more ease ascend to the top ; and I would therefore oiler 
it to the consideration of those who superintend the education 
of our youth, whether, since many of those who begin with the 
Latin quit the same after spending some years without having 
made any great proficiency, and what they have learned becomes 
almost useless, so that their time has been lost, it would not 
have been better to have begun with the French, proceeding to 
the Italian and Latin. For, though after spending the same 
time they should quit the study of languages, and never arrive 
at the Latin, they would, however, have acquired another 
tongue or two, that, being in modern use, might be serviceable 
to them in common life. 

After ten years' absence from Boston, and having become 
easy in my circumstances, I made a journey thither to visit my 
relations, which I could not sooner aiford. In returning, I 
called at Newport, to see my brother James, then settled there 
with his printing-house. Our former differences were forgotten, 
and our meeting was very cordial and affectionate. He was last 
declining in health, and requested me that, in case of his death, 
which he apprehended not far distant, I would take home his 
son, then but ten years of age, and bring him up to the printing 
business. This I accordingly performed, sending him a few 
years to school before I took him into the office. His mother 
carried on the business till he was grown up, when I assisted 
him with an assortment of new types, those of his father being 
in a manner worn out. Thus it was that I made my brother 
ample amends for the service I had deprived him of by leaving 
him so early. 

In 1736, I lost one ^ of my sons, a fine boy of four years 
old, by the small-pox, taken in the common way. I long re- 
gretted him bitterly, and still regret that I had not given it to 
him by inoculation. This I mention for the sake of parents who 
omit that operation, on the supposition that they should never 
forgive themselves if the child died under it ; my example 
showing that the regret may be the same either way, and, 
therefore, that the safer should be chosen. 

Our club, the Junto, was found so useful, and afforded such 
satisfaction to the members, that some were desirous of intro- 
ducing their friends, which could not well be done without ex 

* See page 69. 



^T. 30.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 190 

ceeding what we had settled as a convenient number ; namely, 
twelve. We had, from the beginning, made it a rule to keep 
our institution a secret, which was pretty well observed ; the in- 
tention was, to avoid applications of improper persons for admit- 
tance, some of whom, perhaps, we might find it difficult to refuse 
I was one of those who were against any addition to our number 
but, instead of it, made in writing a proposal that every member 
separately should endeavor to form a subordinate club, with the 
same rules respecting queries, &c., and without informing them 
of the connection with the Junto. The advantages proposed 
were, the improvement of so many more young citizens by the 
use of our institutions ; our better acquaintance with the general 
sentiments of the inhabitants on any occasion, as the Junto mem- 
ber might propose what queries we should desire, and was to 
report to the Junto what passed at his separate club ; the pro- 
motion of our particular interests in business by more extensive 
recommendation, and the increase of our influence in public 
Rffairs, and our power of doing good, by S]3reading through the 
several clubs the sentiments of the Junto. 

The project was approved, and every member undertook to 
form his club ; but they did not all succeed. Five or six only 
prere completed, which were called by different names, as the 
Vi?ie, the U?iio7i, the Band. They were useful to themselves, 
and afforded us a good deal of amusement, information, and in- 
struction, besides answering, in some considerable degree, our 
views of influencing the public on particular occasions ; of which 
I shall give some instances, in course of time, as they happened. 

My first promotion was my being chosen, in 1736, clerk of the 
Greneral Assembly. The choice was made that year without 
opposition ; but the year following, when I was again proposed 
(the choice, like that of the members, being annual), a new mem- 
ber made a long speech against me, in order to favor some other 
candidate. I was, however, chosen, which was the more agreea- 
ble to me, as, besides the pay for the immediate service of clerk, 
the place gave a bett# opportunity of keeping up an interest 
among the members, which secured to me the business of print- 
ing the votes, laws, paper money, and other occasional jobs for 
the public, that, on the whole, were very profitable. 

I therefore did not like the opposition of this new member, 
who was a gentleman of fortune and education, with talents that 
were likelj^ to give him in time great influence in the House, 
which indeed afterwards happened. I did not, however, aim at 
gaining his favor by paying any servile respect to him, but, after 
some time, took this other method. Having heard that he had 



'200 FKANKLIN'S select works. [1737. 

in his library a certain very scarce and curious book, I wrote a 
note to him, expressing my desire of perusing that book, and re- 
questing that he would do me the favor of lending it to me for a 
few days. He sent it immediately ; and I returned it in about 
a week with another note, expressing strongly the sense of the 
favor. When we next met in the House, he spoke to me, which 
he had never done before, and with great civility ; and he ever 
after manifested a readiness to serve me on all occasions, so that 
we became great friends, and our friendship continued to his 
death. This is another instance of the truth of an old maxim 
I had learned, wliich says, " He that has once done you a kind- 
ness will he more ready to do you another than he whom you 
yourself have obliged''' And it shows how much more profita- 
ble it is prudently to remove, than to resent, return and con- 
tinue, inimical proceedings. 

In 1737, Colonel Spotswood, late Governor of Virginia, and 
then postmaster-general, being dissatisfied with the conduct of 
his deputy at Philadelphia, respecting some negligence in render- 
ino;, and want of exactness in framino;, his accounts, took from 
him the commission and offered it to me. I accepted it readily, 
and found it of great advantage ; for, though the salary was 
small, it facilitated the correspondence that improved my news- 
paper, increased the number demanded, as well as the advertise- 
ments to be inserted, so that it came to afford me a considerable 
income. My old competitor's newspaper declined proportion- 
ably, and I was satisfied, without retaliating his refusal, while 
postmaster, to permit my papers being carried by the riders. 
Thus, he suffered greatly from his neglect in due accounting ; 
and I mention it as a lesson to those young men who may be 
employed in managing affairs for others, that they should always 
render accounts, and make remittances, with great clearness and 
punctuality. The character of observing such a conduct is the 
most powerful of all recommendations to new employments and 
increase of business. 

I bfegan now to turn my thoughts to public affairs, beginning, 
however, with small matters. The city watch was one of the 
first things that I conceived to want regulation. It was man- 
aged by the constables of the respective wards in turn ; the con- 
stable summoned a number of housekeepers to attend him for the 
night. Those who chose never to attend paid him six shillings 
a year to be excused, which was supposed to go to hiring substi- 
tutes, but was in reality much more than was necessary for that 
purpose, and made the constableship a place of profit; and the 
constable, for a little drink^ often got such ragamuffijis about him 



MT. 31.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 201 

as a watch that respectable housekeepers did not choose to mix 
with. Walking the rounds, too, was often neglected, and most 
of the nights spent in tippling. I thereupon wrote a paper, to 
be read in the Junto, representing these irregularities, but insist- 
ing more particularly on the inequality of the six shilling tax of 
the constable, respecting the circumstances of those who paid it ; 
since a poor widow housekeeper, all whose propert}^ to be guarded 
by the watch did not, perhaps, exceed the value of fifty pounds, 
paid as much as the wealthiest merchant, who had thousands of 
pounds' worth of goods in his stores. 

On the whole, I proposed, as a more effectual watch, the hiring 
of proper men to serve constantly in the business ; and, as a more 
ecpiitable way of supporting the charge, the levying a tax that 
should be proportioned to the property. This idea, being ap- 
proved by the Junto, was communicated to the other clubs, but 
as originating in each of them ; and though the plan was not 
immediately carried into execution, yet, by preparing the minds 
of people for the change, it paved the way for the law obtained 
a few years after, when the members of our clubs were grown 
into more influence. 

About this time I wrote a paper (first to be read in the Junto, 
but it was afterwards published) on the different accidents and 
carelessnesses by which houses were set on fire, with cautions 
against them, and means proposed of avoiding them. This was 
spoken of as a useful piece, and gave rise to a project, which 
soon followed it, of forming a company for the more ready extin- 
guishing of fires, and mutual assistance in removing and securing 
of goods when in danger. Associates in this scheme were pres- 
ently found, amounting to thirty. Our articles of agreement 
obliged every memljcr to keep always in good order, and fit for 
use, a certain number of leathern buckets, with strong bags and 
baskets (for packing and transporting of goods), which were to 
be brought to every fire ; and we agreed about once a month to 
spend a social evening together, in discoursing and communicat- 
ing such ideas as occurred to us, upon the subject of fires, as 
might be useful in our conduct on such occasions. 

The utility of this institution soon appeared, and many more 
desiring to be admitted than we thought convenient for one com- 
pany, they were advised to form another, which was accordingly 
done ; and thus went on one new companj^ after another, till 
they became so numerous as to include most of the inhabitants 
who were men of proi)erty ; and now, at the time of my writing 
this, though upwards of fifty years since its establishment, that 
which I first formed, called the Union Fire Compamj^ still sub- 



202 FRANKLIN^S SELECT WORKS. [1739 

sists ; tliougli the first members are all deceased but one, ■who ia 
older by a year than I am. The fines that have been paid by 
members for absence at the monthly meetings have been applied 
to the purchase of ' fire-engines, ladders, fire-hooks, and othei 
useful implements for each company ; so that I question whether 
there is a city in the w^orld better provided with the means of 
putting a stop to beginning conflagrations; and, in fact, since 
these institutions, the city has never lost by fire more than one 
or two houses at a time, and the flames have often been extin- 
guished before the house in which they began has been half con- 
sumed. 



CHAPTER VII. 

Arrival of Whitefield — Effects of his Preaching — Church for all Sects — 
Anecdote — Vindication of Whitofield — His Clear Voice — Elocution 
improved by Practice — Mistake in Publishing — Franklin's Partnerships 
in Printing — Proposals for an Academy — A Philosophical Society — 
Active in Measures for Defence — Chosen Colonel — Proposes a Fast 
— The Quakers — James Logan — Anecdote of Penn — The Bunkers — 
The Franklin Fire-place — Refuses a Patent for it. 

In 1739 arrived among us, from Ireland, the Reverend Mr. 
Whitefield, who had made himself remarkable there as an 
itinerant preacher. He was at first permitted to preach in some 
of our churches; but the clergy, taking a dislike to him, soon 
refused him their pulpits, and he was obliged to preach in the 
fields. The multitudes of all sects and denominations that at- 
tended his sermons were enormous, and it was a matter of 
{^peculation to me, who was one of the number, to observe the 
extraordinary influence of his oratory on his hearers, and how 
much they admired and respected him, notwithstanding his com- 
mon abuse of them, by assuring them they were naturally half 
beasts and half devils. It was wonderful to see the change soon 
made in the manners of our inhabitants. From being thought- 
less or indifi'erent about religion, it seemed as if all the world 
were growing religious, so that one could not walk through the 
town in an evening without hearing psalms sung in difierent 
families of every street. 

And it being found inconvenient to assemble in the open air, 
subject to its inclemencies, the building of a house to meet in 
was no sooner proposed, and persons appointed to receive con- 
tributions, than sufficient sums were soon received to procure 



JET. 33.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 203 

the ground, and erect the building, which was one hundred leer, 
long and seventy broad ; and the work was carried on with such 
spirit as to be finished in a much shorter time than could have 
been expected. Both house and ground were vested in trustees, 
expressly for the use of any preacher of any religious persua- 
sion who might desire to say something to the people at Phila- 
d3lphia ; the design in building being not to accommodate any 
particular sect, but the inhabitants in general ; so that, even if 
the Mufti of Constantinople were to send a missionary to 
preach Mahometanism to us, he would find a pulpit at his ser- 
vice. 

Mr. Whitefield, on leaving us, went preaching all the way 
through the Colonies to Georgia. The settlement of that 
province had been lately begun, but, instead of being made with 
hardy, industrious husbandmen, accustomed to labor, — the only 
people fit for such an enterprise, — it was with families of broken 
shop-keepers and other insolvent debtors ; many of indolent and 
idle habits, taken out of the jails, who, being set down in the 
woods, unqualified for clearing land, and unable to endure the 
hardships of a new settlement, perished in numbers, leaving 
many helpless children unprovided for. The sight of their 
miserable situation inspired the benevolent heart of Mr. White- 
field with the idea of building an Orphan House there, in 
which they might be supported and educated. Returning north- 
ward, he preached up this charity, and made large collections ; 
for his eloquence had a wonderful power over the hearts and 
purses of his hearers, of which I myself was an instance. 

I did not disapprove of the design, but, as Georgia was then 
destitute of materials and workmen, and it was proposed to send 
them from Philadelphia at a great expense, I thought it would 
have been better to have built the house at Philadelphia, and 
brought the children to it. This I advised ; but he was resolute 
ui his first project, rejected my counsel, and I therefore refused 
to contribute. 

I happened soon after to attend one of his sermons, in the 
course of which I perceived he intended to finish with a col- 
lection, and I silently resolved he should get nothing from me. 
I had in my pocket a handful of copper money, three or four 
silver dollars, and five pistoles in gold. As he proceeded I 
began to soften, and concluded to give the copper. Another 
stroke of his oratory made me ashamed of that, and determined 
me to give the silver ; and he finished so admirably, that I 
emptied my pocket wholly into the collector's dish, gold and all. 
At this sermon there was also one of our club, who, being of my 



204: franklin's select works. [1739-41. 

sentiments respecting the building in Georgia, and suspecting a 
collection might be intended, had, by precaution, emptied his 
pockets before he came from home. Towards the conckision of 
the discourse, however, he felt a strong inclination to give, and 
applied to a neighbor who stood near him to lend him some 
money for the purpose. The request was fortunately made to 
perhaps the only man in the company who had the firmness not 
to be aifected by the preacher. His answer was, "At any 
other time, friend Hopkinson, I would lend to thee freely ; but 
not now, for thee seems to be out of thy right senses." 

Some of Mr. Whitefield's enemies afi'ected to suppose that he 
would apply these collections to his own private emolument ; 
but I, who was intimately acquainted with him, being employed 
in printing his sermons and journals,=^ never had the least 
suspicion of his integrity; but am to this day decidedly of opinion 
that he was in all his conduct a perfectly hmiest man; and 
methinks my testimony in his favor ought to have the more 
weight, as we had no religious connection. He used, indeed, 
sometimes to pray for my conversion, but never had the satisfiic- 
tion of believing that his prayers were heard. Ours was a mere 
civil friendship, sincere on both sides, and lasted to his death. 

The following instance will show the terms on which we stood. 
Upon one of his arrivals from England at Boston, he wrote to 
me that he should come soon to Philadelphia, but knew not where 
he could lodge when there, as he understood his old friend and 
host, Mr. Benezet, was removed to Germantown. My answer 
was, " You know my house ; if you can make shift with its scanty 
accommodations, you will be most heartily welcome." He replied, 
that if I made that kind ofier for Chrisfs sake, I should not 
miss of a reward. And I returned, " Don't let me be mistaken ; 
it was not for Christ's sake, but for your sake.'' One of our 
common acquaintance jocosely remarked that, knowing it to be 
the custom of the saints, when they received any favor, to shift 
the burden of the obligation from oiF their own shoulders, and 
place it in heaven, I had contrived to fix it on earth. 

The last time I saw Mr. Whitefield was in London, when he 
consulted me about his Orphan House concern, and his purpose 
of appropriating it to the establishment of a college. 

He had a loud and clear voice, and articulated his words so 
perfectly that he might be heard and understood at a great dis- 
tance ; especially as his auditors observed the most perfect 
silence. He preached one evening from the top of the Court 

*Eranklin's proposals for the publication of them in four volumes, at two 
shillings each, may be found in the Pennsylvania Gazette of Nov. 15, 1739. 



^T. 33-35.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 205 

House steps, which are in the middle of Market-street, and on 
the west side of Second-street, which crosses it at right angles. 
Both streets were filled with his hearers to a considerable dis- 
tance. Being among the hindmost in Market-street, I had the 
curiosity to learn how far he could be heard, by retiring back- 
wards down the street towards the river ; and I found his voice 
distinct till I came near Front-street, when some noise in that 
street obscured it. Imagining then a semicircle, of which my 
distance should be the radius, and that it was filled with audi- 
tors, to each of whom I allowed two square feet, I computed 
that he might well be heard by more than thirty thousand. This 
reconciled me to the newspaper accounts of his having preached 
to twenty-five thousand people in the fields, and to the history 
of generals haranguing whole armies, of which I had sometimes 
doubted. 

By hearing him often, I came to distinguish easily between 
sermons newly composed and those which he had often preached 
in the course of his travels. His delivery of the latter was so 
improved by frequent repetition, that every accent, every 
emphasis, every modulation of voice, was so perfectly well turned 
and well placed, that, without being interested in the subject, 
one could not help being pleased with the discourse ; a pleasure 
of much the same kind with that received from an excellent 
piece of music. This is an advantage itinerant preachers have 
over those who are stationary, as the latter cannot well improve 
their delivery of a sermon by so many rehearsals. 

His writing and printing from time to time gave great ad- 
vantage to his enemies ; unguarded expressions, and even errone- 
ous opinions, delivered in preaching, might have been afterwards 
explained or qualified by supposing others that might have ac- 
companied them ; or they might have been denied ; but litera 
scrij)ta manet. Critics attacked his writings violently, and with 
so much appearance of reason as to diminish the number of his 
votaries, and prevent their increase. So that I am satisfied that 
if he had never written anything he would have left behind him a 
much more numerous and important sect, and his reputation 
might in that case have been still growing even after his death ; 
as, there being nothing of his writing on which to found a 
censure, and give him a lower character, his proselytes would be 
left at liberty to attribute to him as great a variety of excel- 
lences as their enthusiastic admiration might wish him to have 
possessed.^ 

* George Whitefield was born in Gloucester, England, in 1714, and died, 
in 1770, at Newburyport, Mass., where his mortal remains were interred. 

18 



206 franklin's select works. lu^^. 

My business was now constantly augmenting, and my circum- 
stances growing daily easier ; my newspaper having become very 
profitable, as being, for a time, almost the only one in this and 
the neighboring provinces. I experienced, too, the truth of the 
observation, " that after getting the first hundred 'pounds, it is 
more easy to get the second;'''' money itself being of a prolific 
nature. 

The partnership at Carolina having succeeded, I was encour- 
aged, to engage in others, and to promote several of my work- 
men, who had behaved well, by establishing them in printing- 
houses in difierent colonies, on the same terms with that in 
Carolina. Most of them did well, being enabled, at the end of 
our term, six years, to purchase the types of me, and go on 
working for themselves, by which means several families were 
raised. Partnerships often finish in quarrels ; but I was happy 
in this, that mine were all carried on and ended amicably ; 
owing, I think, a good deal to the precaution of having very 
explicitly settled, in our articles, everything to be done by or 
expected from each partner, so that there was nothing to dispute ; 
which precaution I would therefore recommend to all who enter 
into partnerships ; for, whatever esteem partners may have for, 
and confidence in, each other at the time of the contract, little 
jealousies and disgusts may arise, with ideas of inequality in the 
care and burden, business, &c., which are attended often with 
breach of friendship and of the connection ; perhaps with law- 
suits, and other disagreeable consequences. 

I had, on the whole, abundant reason to be satisfied with my 
being established in Pennsylvania. There were, however, some 
things that I regretted, there being no provision for defence, nor 
for a complete education of youth ; no militia, nor any college. I 
therefore, in 1743, drew up a proposal for establishing an acade- 
my ; and, at that time, thinking the Reverend Richard Peters, 
who was out of employ, a fit person to superintend such an insti- 
tution, I communicated the project to him ; but he, having more 
profitable views in the service of the Proprietors, which suc- 
ceeded, declined the undertaking ; and, not knowing another at 
that time suitable for such a trust, I let the scheme lie a while 
dormant. I succeeded better the next year, 1744, in proposing 
and establishing a Philosophical Society. The paper I wrote for 
that purpose will be found among my writings, if not lost with 
many others."^ 

* This institution now has a library of fifteen thousand volumes, and a good 
collection of minerals, &Q,. In 1741, Franklin tried the experiment of a 
monthly magazine, but it did not succeed. It -was entitled " The General 



^T. 40.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 207 

With respect to defence, Spain having been several years at 
war against Great Britain, and being at length joined by France, 
which brought us into great danger, and the labored and long-con- 
tinued endeavor of our governor, Thomas, to prevail with our 
Quaker Assembly to pass a militia law, and make other provi- 
sions for the security of the province, having proved abortive, 
I proposed to try what might be done by a voluntary subscrip- 
tion of the people. To promote this, I first wrote and published 
a pamphlet, entitled Plain Truth, in which I stated our help- 
less situation in strong lights, with the necessity of union and 
discipline for our defence, and promised to propose in a few 
days an association, to be generally signed for that purpose. 
The pamphlet had a sudden and surprising effect. I was called 
upon for the instrument of association. Having settled the 
draft of it with a few friends, I appointed a meeting of the citi- 
zens in the large building before mentioned. The house was 
pretty full ; I had prepared a number of printed copies, and 
provided pens and ink dispersed all over the room. I harangued 
them a little on the subject, read the paper, explained it, and 
then distributed the copies, which were eagerly signed, not the 
vfeast objection being made. 

When the company separated, and the papers were collected, 
ive found above twelve hundred signatures ; and, other copies 
being dispersed in the country, the subscribers amounted at 
length to upwards of ten thousand. These all furnished them- 
selves as soon as they could with arms, formed themselves into 
companies and regiments, chose their own ofiicers, and met every 
week to be instructed in the manual exercise, and other parts of 
military discipline. The women, by subscriptions among them- 
selves, provided silk colors, which they presented to the compa- 
nies, painted with different devices and mottoes, which I supplied. 

The officers of the companies composing the Philadelphia regi- 
ment, being met, chose me for their colonel ; but, conceiving 
myself unfit, I declined that station, and recommended Mr. 
Lawrence, a fine person, and a man of influence, who was ac- 
cordingly appointed. I then proposed a lottery to defray the 
expense of building a battery below the town, and furnished 
with cannon. It filled expeditiouslj', and the battery was soon 
erected, the merlons being framed of logs, and filled with earth. 
We bought some old cannon from Boston ; but, these not being 
sufficient, we wrote to London for more, soliciting, at the same 



Magazine and Historical Chronicle." Six numbers were published, when it 
was discontinued. 



208 franklin's select works. [1748. 

time, our Proprietaries for some assistance, thougli without 
much expectation of obtaining it. 

Meanwhile, Colonel Lawrence, Mr. Allen, Abraham Taylor, 
and myself, were sent to New York by the associators, commis- 
sioned to borrow some cannon of Governor Clinton. He at first 
refused us peremptorily; but, at a dinner with his council, where 
there was great drinking of Madeira wine, as the custom of that 
place then was, he softened by degrees, and said he would lend 
us six. After a few more bumpers he advanced to ten ; and, at 
length, he very good-naturedly conceded eighteen. They were 
fine cannon, eighteen-pounders, with their carriages, which were 
soon transported and mounted on our batteries, where the asso- 
ciators kept a nightly guard while the war lasted ; and, among 
the rest, I regularly took my turn of duty there, as a common 
soldier. 

My activity in these operations was agreeable to the Governor 
and Council ; they took me into confidence, and I was consulted 
by them in every measure where their concurrence was thought 
useful to the association. Calling in the aid of religion, I pro- 
posed to them the proclaiming a fast, to promote reformation, 
and implore the blessing of Heaven on our undertaking. They 
embraced the motion ; but, as it was the first fast ever thought 
of in the province, the secretary had no precedent from which 
to draw the proclamation. My education in New England, 
where a fast is proclaimed every year, was here of some advan- 
tage ; I drew it in the accustomed style ; it was translated into 
German, printed in both languages, and circulated through the 
province. This gave the clergy of the difierent sects an oppor- 
tunity of influencing their congregations to join the association, 
and it would probably have been general among all but the 
Quakers, if the peace had not soon intervened. 

It was thought by some of my friends that, by my activity in 
these afiairs, I should offend that sect, and thereby lose my in- 
terest in the Assembly of the province, where they formed a 
great majority. A young man, who had likewise some friends 
in the Assembly, and wished to succeed me as their clerk, ac- 
quainted me that it was decided to displace me at the next elec- 
tion ; and he, through good-will, advised me to resign, as more 
consistent with my honor than being turned out. My answer to 
him was, that I had read or heard of some public man who 
made it a rule never to ask for an ofiice, and never to refuse 
one when offered to him. " I approve," said I, *' of this rule, 
H,nd shall practise it with a small addition ; I shall never ask, 
never refuse, nor ever resign an office. If they will have my 



^T. 42.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 209 

office of clerk, to dispose of it to another, they shall take it from 
me. I will not, by giving it up, lose my right of some time or 
other making reprisal on my adversaries." I heard, however, 
no more of this ; I was chosen again unanimously as clerk at 
the next election. Possibly, as they disliked my late intimacy 
with the members of Council, who had joined the governors in 
all the disputes about military preparations, with which the House 
had long been harassed, they might have been pleased if I would 
voluntarily have left them ; but they did not care to displace 
me on account merely of my zeal for the association, and they 
could not well give another reason. 

Indeed, I had some cause to believe that the defence of the 
country was not disagreeable to any of them, provided they 
were not required to assist in it. And I found that a much 
greater number of them than I could have imagined, though 
against offensive war, were clearly for the defensive. Many 
pamphlets pro and con were published on the subject, and some 
by good Quakers in favor of defence ; which, I believe, con- 
vinced most of their young people. 

A transaction in our fire-company gave me some insight into 
their prevailing sentiments. It had been proposed that we 
should encourage the scheme for building a battery, by laying 
out the present stock, then about sixty pounds, in tickets of the 
lottery. By our rules no money could be disposed of till the 
next meeting after the proposal. The company consisted of 
thirty members, of whom twenty-two were Quakers, and eight 
only of other persuasions. We eight punctually attended the 
meeting ; but, though we thought that some of the Quakers 
would join us, we were by no means sure of a majority. Only 
one Quaker, Mr. James Morris, appeared to oppose the measure. 
He expressed much sorrow that it had ever been proposed, as 
he said Friends were all against it, and it would create such dis- 
cord as might break up the company. We told him that we 
saw no reason for that ; we were the minority, and if Frie?ids 
were against the measure, and out-voted us, we must and should, 
agreeably to the usage of all societies, submit. When the hour 
for business arrived, it was moved to put this to the vote ; he 
allowed we might do it by the rules, but, as he could assure us 
that a number of members intended to be present for the pur- 
pose of opposing it, it would be but candid to allow a little time 
for their appearing. 

While we were disputing this, a waiter came to tell me 
that two gentlemen below desired to speak with me. I wenc 
down, and found there two of our Quaker members. They told 

18* 



210 franklin's select works. [1748 

me there were eight of them assembled at a tavern just by ; 
that they were determined to come and vote with us if there 
should be occasion, which they hoped would not be the case, and 
desired we would not call for their assistance if we could do 
without it, as their voting for such a measure might embroil 
them with their elders and friends. Being thus secure of a 
majority, I went up, and, after a little seeming hesitation, agreed 
to a delay of another hour. This Mr. Morris allowed to be 
extremely fair. Not one of his opposing friends appeared, at 
which he expressed great surprise ; and, at the expiration of the 
hour, we carried the resolution eight to one ; and as, of the 
twenty-two Quakers, eight were ready to vote with us, and thir- 
teen by their absence manifested that they were not inclined to 
oppose the measure, I afterwards estimated the proportion of 
Quakers sincerely against defence as one to twenty-one only. 
For these were all regular members of the society, and in good 
reputation among them, and who had notice of what was pro- 
posed at that meeting. 

The honorable and learned Mr. Logan, who had always been 
of that sect, wrote an address to them, declaring his approbation 
of defensive war, and supported his opinion by many strong 
arguments. He put into my hands sixty pounds to be laid out 
in lottery-tickets for the battery, with dire<3tions to apply what 
prizes might be drawn wholly to that service. He told me the 
following anecdote of his old master, William Penn, respecting 
defence. He came over from England, when a young man, with 
that Proprietary, and as his secretary. It was war-time, and 
their ship was chased by an armed vessel, supposed to be an 
enemy. Their captain prepared for defence ; but told William 
Penn, and his company of Quakers, that he did not expect their 
assistance, and they might retire into the cabin ; which they did, 
except James Logan, who chose to stay upon deck, and was 
quartered to a gun. The supposed enemy proved a friend, so 
there was no fighting ; but when the secretary went down to 
communicate the intelligence, William Penn rebuked him se- 
verely for staying upon deck, and undertaking to assist in 
defending the vessel, contrary to the principles of Friends ; 
especially as it had not been required by the captain. This rep- 
rimand, being before all the company, piqued the secretary, who 
answered, " I being thy servant, why did thee not order me to 
come down ? But thee was willing enough that I should stay 
and help to fight the ship, when thee thought there was 
danger." 

My being many years in the Assembly, a majority of which 



^T. 41-43.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 211 

were constantly Quakers, gave me frequent opportunities of see- 
ing the embarrassment given them by their principle against 
war, whenever application was made to them, by order of the 
crown, to grant aids for military purposes. They were unwil- 
ling to offend government, on the one hand, by a direct refusal ; 
and their friends, the body of the Quakers, on the other, by a 
compliance contrary to their principles ; using a variety of eva- 
sions to avoid complying, and modes of disguising the compli- 
ance when it became unavoidable. The common mode at last 
was, to grant money under the phrase of its being ^'■for the 
king's W5e," and never to inquire how it was applied. 

But, if the demand was not directly from the crown, that 
phrase was found not so proper, and some other was to be invent- 
ed. Thus, when powder was wanting (I think it was for the 
garrison at Louisburg), and the government of New England 
solicited a grant of some from Pennsylvania, which was much 
urged on the House by Governor Thomas, they would not grant 
money to buy powder, because that was an ingredient of war ; 
but they voted an aid to New England of three thousand pounds, 
to be put into the hands of the governor, and appropriated it 
for the purchase of bread, flour, wheat, or other grain. Some 
of the Council, desirous of giving the House still further em- 
barrassment, advised the governor not to accept provision, as 
not being the thing he had demanded; but he replied, " I shall 
take the money, for I understand very well their meaning ; 
other grain is gunpowder;" which he accordingly bought, and 
they never objected to it. 

It was in allusion to this fact that, when in our fire-company 
we feared the success of our proposal in favor of the lottery, 
and I had said to a friend of mine, one of our members, " If we 
fail, let us move the purchase of a fire-engine with the money; 
the Quakers can have no objection to that ; and then, if you 
nominate me and I you as a committee for that purpose, we will 
buy a great gun, which is certainly a fire-engine ;'' "I see," 
said he, " you have improved by being so long in the Assembly ; 
your equivocal project would be just a match for their wheat or 
other g7'ain" 

Those embarrassments that the Quakers sufi"ered, from having 
established and published it as one of their principles that no 
kind of war was lawful, and which, being once published, they 
could not afterwards, however they might change their minds, 
easily get rid of, reminds me of what I think a more prudent 
conduct in another sect among us, — that of the Dunkers. I was 
acquainted with one of its founders, Michael Welfare, soon after 



212 franklin's select works. [1747-49. 

it appeared. He complained to me that thej were grievously 
calumniated by the zealots of other persuasions, and charged 
with abominable principles and practices, to which they were 
utter strangers. I told him this had always been the case with 
new sects, and that, to put a stop to such abuse, I imagined it 
might be well to publish the articles of their belief, and the 
rules of their discipline. He said that it had been proposed 
among them, but not agreed to, for this reason : " When we were 
first drawn together as a society," said he, " it had pleased God 
to enlighten our minds so far as to see that some doctrines, 
which were esteemed truths, were errors ; and that others, which 
we had esteemed errors, were real truths. From time to time, 
He has been pleased to afford us further light, and our princi- 
ciples have been improving, and our errors diminishing. Now 
we are not sure that we are arrived at the end of this pro- 
gression, and at the perfection of spiritual or theological knowl- 
edge ; and we fear that, if we should once print our confession 
of faith, we should feel ourselves as if bound and confined by it, 
and perhaps be unwilling to receive further improvement ; and 
our successors stiil more so, as conceiving what their elders and 
founders had done to be something sacred, never to be departed 
from." 

This modesty in a sect is perhaps a singular instance in the 
history of mankind, every other sect supposing itself in posses- 
sion of all truth, and that those who difi"er are so far in the 
wrong ; like a man travelling in foggy weather ; — those at some 
distance before him on the road he sees wrapped up in the fog, as 
well as those behind him, and also the people in the fields on 
each side ; but near him all appear clear, though in truth he is 
as much in the fog as any of them. To avoid this kind of 
embarrassment, the Quakers have of late years been gradually 
declinhig the public service in the Assembly and in the magistracy, 
choosing rather to quit their power than their principles. 

In order of time, I should have mentioned before that, hav- 
ing, in 1742, invented an open stove for the better warming of 
rooms, and at the same time saving fuel, as the fresh air admit- 
ted was warmed in entering, I made a present of the model to 
Mr. Robert Grace, one of my early friends, ^ho, having an iron 
furnace, found the casting of the plates for these stoves a profit- 
able thing, as they were growing in demand. To promote that 
demand, I wrote and published a pamphlet, entitled, "An Ac- 
count of the New-invented Pennsylvanian Fireplaces ; wherein 
their Construction and Manner of Operation are particularly 
explained; their Advantages above every other Method of 



^T. 43.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 213 

Warming Rooms demonstrated ; and all Objections that have 
been raised against the Use of them answered and obviated," 
&c. This pamphlet had a good effect. Governor Thomas was 
so pleased with the construction of this stove, as described in it, 
that he offered to give me a patent for the sole vending of them 
for a term of years; but I declined it from a principle which has 
ever weighed with me on such occasions, namely, That, as ive 
enjoy great advantages from the inventions of others^ we should 
be glad of an opportu7iity to serve others by any invention of 
ours ; and this we should do freely and generously. 

An ironmonger in London, however, assuming a good deal of 
my pamphlet and working it up into his own, and making some 
small changes in the machine, which rather hurt its operation, 
got a patent for it there, and made, as I was told, a little fortune 
by it. And this is not the only instance of patents taken out of 
my inventions by others, — though not always with the same suc- 
cess, — which I never contested, as having no desire of profiting 
by patents myself, and hating disputes. The use of these fire- 
places in very many houses, both here in Pennsylvania and the 
neighboring states, has been, and is, a great saving of wood to 
the inhabitants. 



CHAPTER YIII. 

Moves in the Cause of Educsition — An Academy — A Trustee — New Part- 
nership — Electrical Experiments — Public Employments — A Member of 
the Assembly — Commissioner to treat -with Indians — The Pennsyl- 
vania Hospital — Advice in procuring Subscriptions — Street Paving, 
Cleaning and Lighting — Project for Cleaning Streets in Loudon — Post- 
master-general of America — Honorary Degrees. 

Peace being concluded, and the association business therefore 
at an end, I turned my thoughts again to the affair of establish- 
ing an academy. The first step 1 took was to associate in the 
design a number of active friends, of whom the Junto furnished 
a good part ; the next was to write and publish a pamphlet, en- 
titled Proposals relating to the Edzication of Youth in Fenn- 
sylvauia. This I distributed among the principal inhabitants 
gratis ; and as soon as I could suppose their minds a little pre- 
pared by the perusal of it, I set on Hot a subscription for pen- 
ing and supporting an academy. It was to ])e paid in quotas 
yearly for five years ; by so dividing it, I judged the subscription 



214 franklin's select works. [1749. 

miglit be larger ; and I believe it was so, amounting to no less, 
if I remember right, than five thousand pounds."^ 

In the introduction to these proposals, I stated their publica- 
tion not as an act of mine, but of some piiblic-spirited gentle- 
men ; avoiding as much as I could, according to my usual rule, 
the presenting myself to the public as the author of any scheme 
for their benefit. 

The subscribers, to carry the project into immediate execution, 
chose out of their number twenty-four trustees, and appointed 
Mr. Francis, then attorney-general, and myself, to draw up con- 
stitutions for the government of the academy ; which being done 
and signed, a house was hired, masters engaged, and the schools 
opened, I think in the same year — 1749. 

The scholars increasing fast, the house was soon found too 
small, and we were looking out for a piece of ground properly 
situated, with intent to build, when accident threw into our way 
a large house ready built, which, with a few alterations, might 
well serve our purpose. This was the building before mentioned, 
erected by the hearers of Mr. Whitefield, and was obtained for 
us in the following manner. 

It is to be noted that, the contributions to this building being 
made by the people of different sects, care was taken in the 
nomination of trustees, in whom the building and ground were to 
be vested, that a predominancy should not be given to any sect, 
lest in time that predominancy might be a means of appropriat- 
ing the whole to the use of such sect, contrary to the original 
intention. It was for this reason that one of each sect was ap- 
pointed ; namely, one Church-of-Eugland man, one Presbyterian, 
one Baptist, one Moravian, &c., who, in case of vacancy by 
death, were to fill it by election from among the contributors. The 
Moravian happened not to please his colleagues, and on his death 
they resolved to have no other of that sect. The difficulty then 
was, how to avoid having two of some other sect, by means of 
the new choice. 

Severaf persons were named, and for that reason not agreed to. 
At length one mentioned me, with the observation that I was 
merely an honest man, and of no sect at all ; which prevailed with 
them to choose me. The enthusiasm which existed when the 

*" Other great benefactions for this institution," says Wm. Temple 
Pranklin, " were subsequently obtained, both in America and Great Britain, 
through the influence of Dr. Franklin ; who, on his return to Philadelphia 
from England, in 1775, carried thence two large gold medals, given by Mr. 
Sargent, one of his friends, to be bestowed as prizes on such scholars as 
should distinguish themselves by writing on subjects to be proposed to them 
by the trustees or governors of the college." 



^T. 43.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 215 

house was built, liad long since abated, and its trustees had not 
been able to procure fresh contributions for paying the ground- 
rent, and discharging some other debts the building had occa- 
sioned, which embarrassed them greatly. Being now a member 
of both boards of trustees, that for the building and that for the 
academy, I had a good opportunity of negotiating with both, and 
brought them finally to an agreement, by which the trustees for 
the building were to cede it to those of the academy ; the latter 
undertaking to discharge the debt, to keep forever open in the 
building a large hall for occasional preachers, according to the 
original intention, and maintain a free school for the instruction 
of poor children. 

Writings were accordingly drawn ; and, on paying the debts, 
the trustees of the academy were put in possession of the prem- 
ises ; and, by dividing the great and lofty hall into stories, and 
different rooms above and below for the several schools, and pur- 
chasing some additional ground, the whole was soon made fit for 
our purpose, and the scholars removed into the building. The 
whole care and trouble of agreeing with the workmen, purchas- 
ing materials, and superintending the work, fell upon me ; and 
I went through it the more cheerfully, as it did not then inter- 
fere with my private business ; having the year before taken a 
very able, industrious, and honest partner, Mr. David Hall, with 
whose character I was well acquainted, as he had worked for me 
four years. He took off my hands all care of the printing-office, 
paying me punctually my share of the profits. This partner- 
ship continued eighteen years, successfully for us both. 

The trustees of the academy, after a while, were incorporated 
by a charter from the governor ; their funds were increased by 
contributions in Britain, and grants of land from the proprieta- 
ries, to which the Assembly has since made considerable addition ; 
and thus was established the present University of Philadelphia. 
I have been continued one of its trustees from thebeo-inning, now 
near forty years, and have had the very great pleasure of seeing 
a number of the youth, who have received their education in it, 
distinguished by their improved abilities, serviceable in public 
stations, and ornaments to their country. 

When I was disenpfaged myself, as above mentioned, from 
private business, 1 flattered mj'self that, by the sufficient though 
moderate fortune I had acquired, I had found leisure during the 
rest of my life for philosophica. studies and amusements. I pur- 
chased ail Dr. Spence's apparatus, who had come from England 
to lecture in Philadelphia, and I proceeded in my electrical 
experiments with great alacrity ; but, the public, now considering 



216 franklin's select works. [1750 

me as a man of leisure, laid hold of me for their purposes ; every 
part of our civil govermiient, and almost at the same time, im- 
posing some duty upon me. 

The governor put me into the commission of the peace ; the cor- 
poration of the city chose me one of the Common Council, and soon 
after Alderman ; and the citizens at large elected me a burgess, to 
represent them in the Assembly. This latter station was the more 
agreeable to me, as I grew at length tired with sitting there to hear 
the debates, in which, as clerk, I could take no part ; and which 
were often so uninteresting, that I was induced to amuse myself 
with making magic squares or circles, or anything to avoid wea- 
riness ; and I conceived my becoming a member would enlarge my 
power of doing good. I would not, however, insinuate that my 
ambition was not flattered by all these promotions ; it certainly 
was, for, considering my low beginning, they were great things 
to me ; and they were still more pleasing, as being so many spon- 
taneous testimonies of the public good opinion, and by me entirely 
unsolicited. 

The ofiice of justice of the peace I tried a little, by attending 
a few courts, and sitting on the bench to hear causes ; but find- 
ing that more knowledge of the common law than I possessed 
was necessary to act in that station with credit, I gradually 
withdrew from it, excusing myself by being obliged to attend the 
higher duties of a legislator in the Assembly. My election to 
this trust was repeated every year for ten years, without my ever 
asking any elector for his vote, or signifying, either directly or 
indirectly, any desire of being chosen. On taking my seat in the 
House, my son was appointed their clerk. 

The year following, a treaty being to be held with the Indians 
at Carlisle, the governor sent a message to the House, proposing 
that they should nominate some of their members, to be joined 
with some members of Council, as commissioners for that purpose. 
The House named the Speaker (Mr. Norris) and myself; and, 
being commissioned, we went to Carlisle, and met the Indians 
accordingly. 

As those people are extremely apt to get drunk, and when so 
are very quarrelsome and disorderly, we strictly forbade the 
selling any liquor to them ; and, when they complained of this 
restriction, we told them that, if they continued sober during the 
treaty, we would give them plenty of rum when the business was 
over. They promised this, and they kept their promise, because 
they could get no rum, and the treaty was conducted very orderly, 
and concluded to mutual satisfaction. They then claimed and 
received the rum ; this was in the afternoon ; they were near one 



^T. 44.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 217 

hundred men, women and children, and were lodged m tempo- 
rary cabins, built in the form of a square, just without the town. 
In the evening, hearing a great noise among them, the commis- 
sioners walked to see what was the matter. We found they had 
made a great bonfire in the middle of the square ; they were all 
"drunk, men and women, quarrelling and fighting. Their dark- 
colored bodies, half naked, seen only by the gloomy light of the 
bonfire, running after and beating one another with firebrands, 
accompanied by their horrid 3'elliugs, formed a scene the most 
resembling our ideas of hell that could well be imagined ; there 
was no appeasing the tumult, and we retired to our lodging. At 
midnight a number of them came thundering at our door, de- 
manding more rum, of which we took no notice. 

The next day, sensible they had misbehaved in giving us that 
disturbance, they sent three of their old counsellors to make their 
apology. The orator acknowledged the fault, but laid it upon 
the rmu ; and then endeavored to excuse the rum, by saying, 
" The Great Spirit, who made all things, made everything for 
some use ; and whatever use he designed anything for, that use 
it should always be put to. Now, when he made rum, he said, 
' Let this he for the Indians to get drunk with ; ' and it must be 
so." And indeed, if it be the design of Providence to extirpate 
these savages, in order to make room for the cultivators of the 
earth, it seems not impossible that rum may be the appointed 
means. It has already annihilated all the tribes who formerly 
inhabited the sea-coast. 

In 1751, Dr. Thomas Bond, a particular friend of mine, con- 
ceived the idea of establishing a hospital in Philadelphia (a very 
beneficent design, which has been ascribed to me, but was origin- 
ally and truly his) for the reception and cure of poor sick persons, 
whether inhabitants of the province or strangers. He was zeal- 
ous and active in endeavoring to procure subscriptions for it ; 
but, the proposal being a novelty in America, and at first not 
well understood, he met but with little success. 

At length he came to me, with the compliment that he found 
there was no such a thing as carrying a public-spirited project 
through without my being concerned in it. " For," said he, " I 
am often asked, by those to whom I propose subscribing, Have 
you consulted Franklin on this business ? And what does he 
think of it .? And when I tell them that I have not, supposing 
it rather out of your line, they do not subscribe, but say they 
will consider it.'''' I inquired into the nature and jDrobable 
I utility of this scheme, and receiving from him a very satisfactory 
Dxplanation, I not only subscribed to it myself, but engaged 



218 FRANKLIN^S SELECT WORKS. [1T51. 

heartily iu the design of procuring subscriptions from others. 
Previously, however, to the solicitation, I endeavored to prepare 
the minds of the people, by writing on the subject in the news- 
papers, which was my usual custom in such cases, but which Dr. 
Bond had omitted. 

The subscriptions afterwards were more free and generous ; 
but, beginning to flag, I saw they would be insufficient without 
some assistance from the Assembly, and therefore proposed to 
petition for it, which was done. The country members did not 
at first relish the project; they objected that it could only be 
serviceable to the city, and therefore the citizens alone should be 
at the expense of it ; and they doubted whether the citizens 
themselves generally approved of it. My allegation on the con- 
trary, that it met with such approbation as to leave no doubt of 
our being able to raise two thousand pounds by voluntary dona- 
tions, they considered it a most extravagant supposition, and 
utterly impossible. 

On this I formed my plan ; and, asking leave to bring in a 
bill for incorporating the contributors according to the prayer of 
their petition, and granting them a blank sum of money, — which 
leave was obtained chiefly on the consideration that the House 
could throw the bill out, if they did not like it, — I drew it so as 
to make the important clause a conditional one, namely : " And 
be it enacted, by the authority aforesaid, that, when the said 
contributors shall have met and chosen their managers and 
treasurer, and shall have raised by their contributions a 
capital stock of two thousand pounds' value (the yearly interest 
of which is to be applied to the accommodation of the sick poor 
in the said hospital, and of charge for diet, attendance, advice, 
and medicines), and shall make the same appear to the satisfac- 
Hon of the Speaker of the Assembly for the time being ; that 
then it shall and may be lawful for the said Speaker, and he is 
hereby required, to sign an order on the provincial treasurer, for 
the payment of two thousand j)ounds, in two yearly payments, 
to the treasurer of the said hospital, to be applied to the found- 
ing, building, and finishing of the same." 

This condition carried the bill through ; for the members who 
had opposed the grant, and now conceived they might have the 
credit of being charitable without the expense, agreed to its 
passage ; and then, in soliciting subscriptions among the people, 
we urged the conditional promise of the law as an additional 
motive to give, since every man's donation would be doubled ; 
thus the clause worked both ways. The subscriptions accord- 
ingly soon exceeded the requisite sum, and we claimed and 



^T. 45.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 21^ 

received the public gift, which enabled us to carry the design 
into execution. A convenient and handsome building was soon 
erected ; the institution has, by constant experience, been found 
useful, and flourishes to this day ; and I do not remember any 
of my political manoeuvres the success of which at the time gave 
more pleasure, or wherein, after thinking of it, I more easily 
excused myself for having made some use of cunning.^ 

It was about this time that another projector, the Reverend 
Gilbert Tennent, came to me with a request that I would assist 
him in procuring a subscription for erecting a new meeting-house. 
It was to be for the use of a congregation he had gathered among 
the Presbyterians, who were originally disciples of Mr. White- 
field. Unwilling to make myself disagreeable to my fellow- 
citizens by too frequently soliciting their contributions, I abso- 
lutely refused. He then desired I would furnish him with a list 
of the names of persons I knew by experience to be generous 
and public-spirited. I thought it would be unbecoming in me, 
after their kind compliance with my solicitations, to mark them 
out to be worried by other beggars, and therefore refused to give 
such a list. He then desired I would at least give him my 
advice. " That I will readily do," said I ; " and, in the first 
place, I advise you to apply to all those who you know will give 
something ; next, to those who you are uncertain whether they 
will give anything or not, and show them the list of those who 
have given ; and lastlj^ do not neglect those who you are sure 
will give nothing; for in some of them you may be mistaken." 
He laughed and thanked me, and said he would take my advice. 
He did so, for he asked of everybody ; and he obtained a much 
larger sum than he expected, with which he erected the capa- 
cious and elegant meeting-house that stands in Arch-street. 

Our city, though laid out with a beautiful regularity, the 
streets large, straight, and crossing each other at right angles, 
had the disgrace of sufi'ering those streets to remain longunpaved, 
and in wet weather the wheels of heavy carriages ploughed them 
into a quagmire, so that it was difiicult to cross them, and in 
dry weather the dust was ofiensive. I had lived near what was 
called the Jersey Market, and saw with pain the inhabitants 
wading in mud while purchasing their provisions. A strip of 
ground down the middle of that market was at length paved 
with brick, so that, being once in the market, they had firm 
footing, but were often over shoes in dirt to get there. By 

* The building now occupied by the Pennsylvania Hospital is situated 
in Pine-street, Philadelphia, between Eighth and Ninth. It occupies a 
whole square, having been completed in the year 1804. 



220 fbanklin's select works. [1751. 

talking and writing on the subject, I was at length instrumental 
in getting the street paved with stone between the market and 
the brick foot-pavement that was on the side next the houses. 
This, for some time, gave an easy access to the market, drj-shod ; 
but, the rest of the street not being paved, whenever a carriage 
came out of the mud upon this pavement, it shook off and left 
its dirt upon it ; and it was soon covered with mire, which was 
not removed, the city as yet having no scavengers. 

After some inquiry, I found a poor, industrious man, who was 
willing to undertake keeping the pavement clean, by sweeping it 
twice a week, carrying off the dirt from before all the neighbors' 
doors, for the sum of sixpence per month, to be paid by each 
house. I then wrote and printed a paper setting forth the ad- 
vantages to the neighborhood that might be obtained from this 
small expense ; the greater ease in keeping our houses clean, so 
much dirt not being brought in by people's feet ; the benefit to 
the shops by more custom, as buyers could more easily get at 
them, and by not having in windy weather the dust blown in 
upon their goods, &c. &c. I sent one of these papers to each 
house, and in a day or two went round to see who would sub- 
scribe an agreement to pay these sixpences. It was unanimously 
signed, and for a time well executed. All the inhabitants of 
the city were delighted with the cleanliness of the pavement that 
surrounded the market, it being a convenience to all ; and this 
raised a general desire to have all the streets paved, and made 
the people more willing to submit to a tax for that purpose. 

After some time, I drew a bill for paving the city, and brought 
it into the Assembly. It was just before I went to England, in 
1757, and did not pass till I was gone, and then with an altera- 
tion in the mode of assessment, which I thought not for the bet- 
ter, but with an additional provision for lighting as well as 
paving the streets, which was a great improvement. It was by 
a private person, the late Mr. John Clifton, giving a sample of 
the utility of lamps, by placing one at his door, that the people 
were first impressed with the idea of lighting all the city. The 
honor of this public benefit has also been ascribed to me, but 
it belongs truly to that gentleman. I did but follow his example, 
and have only some merit to claim respecting the form of our 
lamps, as differing from the globe-lamps we were at first sup- 
plied with from London. They were found inconvenient in 
these respects : they admitted no air below, the smoke there- 
fore did not readily go out above, but circulated in the globe, 
lodged on its inside, and soon obstructed the light they were in- 
tended to afibrd; giving, besides, the daily trouble of wiping 



iET. 45.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 22\ 

them clean ; and an accidental stroke on one of them would 
demolish it, and render it totally useless. I therefore suggested 
the composing them of four flat panes, with a long funnel above 
to draw up the smoke, and crevices admitting the air below to 
facilitate the ascent of the smoke ; by this means they were kept 
clean, and did not grow dark in a few hours, as the London 
lamps do, but continued bright till morning ; and an accidental 
stroke would generally break but a single pane, easily repaired. 

I have sometimes wondered that the Londoners did not, from 
the efiect holes in the bottom of the globe-lamps used at Yaux- 
hall have in keeping them clean, learn to have such holes in 
their street-lamps. But, these holes being made for another 
purpose, namely, to communicate flame more suddenly to the 
wick by a little flax hanging down through them, the other use. 
of letting in air, seems not to have been thought of; and there- 
fore, after the lamps have been lit a few hours, the streets of 
London are very poorly illuminated. 

The mention of these improvements puts me in mind of one I 
^proposed, when in London, to Dr. Fothergill, who was among 
the best men I have known, and a great promoter of useful 
projects. I had observed that the streets, when dry, were never 
swept, and the light dust carried away ; but it was suffered to 
accumulate till wet weather reduced it to mud, and then, after 
lying some days so deep on the pavement that there was no 
crossing but in paths kept clean by poor people with brooms, it 
was with great labor raked together and thrown up into carts, 
open above, the sid^s of which sufi'ered some of the slush at 
every jolt on the pavement to shake out and fall, sometimes to 
the annoyance of foot passengers. The reason given for not 
sweeping the dusty streets was, that the dust would fly into the 
windows of shops and houses. 

An accidental occurrence had instructed me how much sweep- 
ing might be done in a little time. I found at my door in 
Craven-street, one morning, a poor woman sweeping my pavement 
with a birch broom ; she appeared very pale and feeble, as just 
come out of a fit of sickness. I asked who employed her to 
sweep there ; she said, " Nobody ; but I am poor and in dis- 
tress, and I sweeps before geutlefolkeses doors, and hopes they 
will give me something." I bid her sweep the whole street 
clean, and I would give her a shilling ; this was at nine o'clock ; 
at noon she came for the shillino;. From the slowness I saw at 
first ni her working, I could scarce believe that the work was 
done so soon, and sent my servant to examine it wuo reported 
that the whole street was swept perfectly clean, and all the dust 
1U# 



222 franklin's select works. [itsi. 

placed in tlie gutter, which was in the middle ; and the next rair 
washed it quite awa j, so that the pavement, and even the kennel, 
were perfectly clean. 

I then judged that, if that feeble woman could sweep such a 
street in three hours, a strong, active man might have done it in 
half the time. And here let nie remark the convenience of 
havino; but one gutter in such a narrow street running down its 
middle, instead of two, one on each side near the footway. For 
where all the rain that falls on a street runs from the sides and 
meets in the middle, it forms there a current strong enough to 
wash away all the mud it meets with ; but, when divided into 
two channels, it is often too weak to cleanse either, and only 
makes the mud it finds more fluid ; so that the wheels of car- 
riages and feet of horses throw and dash it upon the foot pave- 
ment, which is thereby rendered foul and slippery, and some- 
times splash it upon those who are walking. My propositi, 
communicated to the Doctor, was as follows : 

" For the more effectually cleaning and keeping clean the 
streets of London and Westminster, it is proposed that the 
several watchmen be contracted with to have the dust swept up 
in the dry seasons, and the mud raked up at other times, each 
in the several streets and lanes of his round ; that they be 
furnished with brooms and other proper instruments for these 
purposes, to be kept at their respective stands, ready to furnish 
the poor people they may employ in the service. 

" That in the dry summer months the dust be all swept up 
into heaps at proper distances, before the shops and windows of 
houses are usually opened; when scavengers, with close-covered 
carts, shall also carry it all away. 

" That the mud, when raked up, be not left in heaps to be 
spread abroad again by the wheels of carriages and trampling of 
horses ; but that the scaveiigers be provided with bodies of carts, 
not placed high upon wheels, but low upon sliders, with lattice 
bottoms, which, being covered with straw, will retain the mud 
thrown into them, and permit the water to drain from it ; whereby 
it will become much lighter, water making the greatest uart of 
the weight. These bodies of carts to be placed at convenient 
distances, and the mud brought to them in wheelbarrows ; they 
remaining where placed till the mud is drained, and then horses 
brought to draw them away." 

I have since had doubts of the practicability of the la tter part 
of this proposal, in all places, on account of the narrowness of 
some streets, and the difiiculty of placing the draining sleds sc 
as not to encumber too much the passage ; but I am still ^^if 



) 



^T. 45.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 223 

opinion that tlie former, requiring the dust to be swept up and 
carried away before the shops are open, is very practicable in 
the summer, when the days are long; for, in walking through 
the Strand and Fleet-street one morning at seven o'clock, I 
Dbserved there was not one shop open, though it had been day- 
light and the sun up above three hours ; the inhabitants of Lon- 
dor. choosing voluntarily to live much by candle-light, and sleep 
by sunshine, and yet often complain, a little absurdly, of the 
duty on candles, and the high price of tallow. 

Some may think these trilling matters not worth minding or 
relating ; but, when they consider that, though dust blown into 
the eyes of a single person, or into a single shop, in a windy day, 
is but of small importance, yet the great number of the instances 
in a populous city, and its frequent repetition, gives it weight 
and consequence, perhaps they will not censure very severely 
those who bestow some attention to affairs of this seemingly low 
nature. Human felicity is produced not so much by great pieces 
of good fortune that seldom happen, as by little advantages that 
occur every day. Thus, if you teach a poor young man to shave 
himself, and keep his razor in order, you may contribute more to 
the happiness of his life than in giving him a thousand guineas. 
This sum may be soon spent, the regret only remaining of having 
foolishly consumed it ; but, in the other case, he escapes the fre- 
quent vexation of waiting for barbers, and of their sometimes 
dirty fingers, offensive breaths, and dull razors ; he shaves when 
most convenient to him, and enjoys daily the pleasure of its being 
done with a good instrument. With these sentiments I have 
hazarded the few preceding pages, hoping they may afford hints, 
which some time or other may be useful to a city I love, — having 
lived many years in it very happily, — and perhaps to some of our 
towns in America. 

Having been some time employed by the postmaster-general of 
America, as his comptroller in regulating the several offices, and 
bringing the officers to account, I was, upon his death, in 1753, 
appointed, jointly with Mr. William Hunter, to bucceed him, by 
a commission from the postmaster-general in England. The 
American office had hitherto never paid anything to that of 
Britain. We were to have six hundred pounds a year between 
us, if we could make that sum out of the profits of the office. 
To do this, a variety of improvements was necessary ; some of 
these were inevitably at first expensive ; so that in the first four 
years the office became above nine hundred pounds in debt to us. 
But it soon after began to repay us ; and before I was displaced 
by a freak of the ministers, of which I shall speak hereafter, we 



224 franklin's select works. [1754. 

had brought it to yield three times as miicli clear revenue to the 
crown as the post-office of Irehmd. Since that imprudent trans* 
action, they have received from it — not one farthing. 

The business of the post-office occasioned my taking a journey 
this year to New England, where the College of Cambridge, of 
their own motion, presented me with the degree of Master of 
Arts. Yale College, in Connecticut, had before made me a sim- 
ilar compliment. Thus, without studying in any college, J. 
came to partake of their honors. They were conferred in con- 
sideration of my improvements and discoveries in the electric 
branch of natural philosophy ."^ 



CHAPTER IX. 

Delegate to the Albany Convention — Proposes a Plan of Union — Confers 
with Gov. Shirley at Boston — Meets Gov. Morris at New York — Anec- 
dote — Proprietary quarrels — War with France — Assists Mr. Quincy, 
in procuring Supplies — Visits Braddock's Army — Procures llorses and 
Wagons for it — Character of Braddock — His Defeat — Poor Reward 
of Franklin's Seryices. 

In 1754, war with France being again apprehended, a con- 
gress of commissioners from the diffiarent colonies was by an or- 
der of the Lords of Trade to be assembled at Albany ; there to 
confer with the chiefs of the Six Nations, concerning the means 
of defending both their country and ours. Grovernor Hamilton, 
having received this order, acquainted the House with it, re- 
questing they would furnish proper presents for the Indians, to 
be given on this occasion ; and naming the speaker (Mr. Norris) 
and myself to join Mr. John Penn and Mr. Secretary Peters as 

*In a letter from France, May 1784, Franklin remarks, on revisiting 
Boston: " I long much to see again my native place, and to lay my bones 
there. I left it in 1723; I visited it in 1733, 1743, 1753, and 17(i3. In 
1773 I was in England; in 1775 I had a sight of it, but could not enter, \t 
being then in possession of the enemy. I did hope to have been there in 
1783, but could not obtain my dismission from this employment here; and 
now I fear I shall never have that happiness." In a letter, from Philadel- 
phia, May 31, 1788, to the Rev. John Lathrop, Boston, Franklin writes: 
*'It seems probable, though not certain, that I sliall hardly again visit that 
bd'jved place. But I enjoy the company and conversation of its inhabitants, 
when any of them are so good as to visit me; for, besides their general 
good sense, which I value, the Boston manner, turn of phrase, and even 
tone of voice and accent in pronunciation, all please, and seem to refresii 
and revive me." 



^T. 48.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 225 

commissioners to act for Pennsylvania. The House a])proYed 
the nomination, and provided the goods for the presents, though 
they did not much like treating out of the province ; and we met 
the other commissioners at Albany about the middle of June. 

In our way thither, I projected and drew up a plan for the 
union of all the colonies under one government, so far as might 
be necessary for defence, and other important general purposes. 
As we passed through New York, I had there shown my project 
to Mr. James Alexander and Mr. Kennedy, two gentlemen of 
great knowledge in public affairs ; and, being fortified by their 
approbation, I ventured to lay it before the congress. It then 
appeared that several of the comuiissioners had formed plans of 
the same kind. A previous question was first taken, Avhether a 
union should be established, which passed in the affirmative unan- 
imously. A committee was then appointed, one member from 
each colony, to consider the several plans and report. Mine 
happened to be preferred, and, with a few amendments, was 
accordingly reported. 

By this plan, the general government was to be administered 
by a President-general, appointed and supported by the crown ; 
and a grand council was to be chosen by the representatives of 
the people of the several colonies, met in their respective As- 
semblies. The debates upon it in Congress went on daily, hand 
in hand with the Indian business. Many objections and difficul- 
ties were started ; but at length they were all overcome, and the 
plan was unanimously agreed to, and copies ordered to be trans- 
mitted to the Board of Trade and to the Assemblies of the sev- 
eral provinces. Its fate was singular ; the Assemblies did not 
adopt it, as they all thought there was too much prerogative in 
it ; and in England it was judged to have too much of the derri' 
ocratic. The Board of Trade did not approve it nor recom- 
mend it for the approbation of his majesty ; but another scheme 
was formed, supposed to answer the same purpose better, where- 
by the governors of the provinces, with some members of their 
respective councils, were to meet and order the raising of troops, 
building of forts, &c., and to draw on the treasury of Great 
Britain for the expense, which was afterwards to be refunded by 
an act of Parliament laying a tax on America. My plan, with 
my reasons in support of it, is to be found among my political 
papers that were printed. 

Being the winter followino; in Boston, I had much conversa- 
tion with Governor Shirley upon both the plans. Part of what 
passed between us on this occasion may also be seen among those 
papers. The different and contrary reasons of dislike to my 



226 FRANKLIN'S SELECT WORKS. [1754 

plan makes me suspect that it was really the true medium ; and 
I am still of opinion it would have been happy for both sides 
if it had been adopted. The colonies so united would have been 
sufficiently strong to have defended themselves ; there would 
then have been no need of troops from England ; of course, the 
subsequent pretext for taxing America, and the bloody contest 
it occasioned, would have been avoided. But such mistakeiji 
are not new ; history is full of the errors of states and princes. 

"Look round the habitable world, — how few 
Know their own good, or, knowing it, pursue J " 

Those who govern, having much business on their hands, do 
not generally like to take the trouble of considering and carry- 
ing into execution new projects. The best public measures are 
therefore seldom adopted from previous wisdom, but forced by 
the occasion.^ 

The Governor of Pennsylvania, in sending it down to the 
Assembly, expressed his approbation of the plan, "as appearing 
to him to be drawn up with great clearness and strength of 
judgment, and therefore recommended it as well worthy of their 
closest and most serious attention." The House, however, by 
the management of a certain member, took it up when I hap- 
pened to be absent, which I thought not very fair, and repro- 
bated it without paying any attention to it at all, to my no small 
mortification. 

In my journey to Boston this year, I met at New York with 
our new governor, Mr. Morris, just arrived there from England, 
with whom I had been before intimately acquainted. He brought 
a commission to supersede Mr. Hamilton, who, tired with the 
disputes his Proprietary instructions subjected him to, had re- 
signed. Mr. Morris asked me if I thought he must expect as 
uncomfortable an administration. I said, " No ; you may, on 
the contrary, have a very comfortable one, if you will only take 
care not to enter into any dispute with the Assembly." " My 
dear friend," said he, pleasantly, "how can you advise my avoid- 
ing disputes? You know I love disputing, it is one of my 
greatest pleasures ; however, to show the regard I have for your 
counsel, I promise you I will, if possible, avoid them." He had 
some reason for loving to dispute, being eloquent, an acute 

*" Wm. Penn," says Bancroft, " in 1697 had proposed an annual Con- 
gress of all tlie provinces on the continent of America, with power to reg- 
ulate commerce. Franklin revived the great idea, and breathed into it 
enduring life. As he descended the Hudson, the people of New York 
thronged about him to welcome him ; and he who first entered their city a? 
a runaway apprentice was revered as the mover of American Union." 



MT. 49.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 227 

sophister, and therefore generally successful in argumentative 
conversation. He had been brought up to it from a boy, his 
father, as I have heard, accustoming his children to dispute with 
one another for his diversion, while sitting at table after dinner, 
but I think the practice was not wise, for, in the course of my 
observation, those disputing, contradicting, and confuting peo- 
ple, are generally unfortunate in their aftair-. They get victory 
sometimes, but they never get good will, which would be of more 
use to them. We parted, he going to Philadelphia, and I to 
Boston. 

In returnino; I met at New York with the votes of the As- 
sembly of Pennsylvania, by which it appeared that, notwith- 
standing his promise to me, he and the House were already in 
high contention ; and it was a continual battle between them, as 
long as he retained the government. I had my share of it ; for, 
as soon as I got back to my seat in the x\.ssembly, I was put on 
every committee for answering his speeches and messages, and by 
the committees always desired to make the drafts. Our answers, 
as well as his messages, were often tart, and sometimes indecently 
abusive ; and, as he knew I wrote for the Assembly, one might 
have imagined that when we met we could hardly avoid cutting 
throats. But he was so good-natured a man that no personal 
difference between him and me was occasioned by the contest, 
and we often dined together. 

One afternoon, in the height of this public quarrel, we met 
in the street. " Franklin," said he, " you must go home with 
me and spend the evening; I am to have some company that 
you will like ; " and, taking me by the arm, led me to his house. 
In gay conversation over our wine, after supper, he told us, jok- 
ingly, that he much admired the idea of rfancho Panza, who, 
when it was proposed to give him a government, requested it 
might be a government of blacks ; as then, if he could not agree 
with his people, he might sell them. One of his friends, wlio 
sat next to me, said, " Franklin, why do you continue to side 
with those damned Quakers? Had you not better sell them? 
The Proprietor will give you a good price." "The governor,''' 
said I, " has not yet blacked them enough." He indeed had 
labored hard to blacken the Assembly in all his messages, but 
they wiped off his coloring as fast as he laid it on, and placed 
it, in return, thick upon his own face ; so that, iBnding he was 
likely to be negi'ojied himself, he, as well as Mr. Hamilton, grew 
tired of the contest, and quitted the government. 

These public quarrels were all at bottom owing to the Pro- 
prietaries, our hereditary governors ; who, when any expense 



228 franklin's select works. [1755. 

was to be incurred for the defence of their province, with incred- 
ible meanness instructed their deputies to pass no act for levy- 
ing the necessary taxes, unless their vast estates were in the same 
act expressly exonerated ; and they had even taken the bonds 
of these deputies to observe such instructions. The Assemblies 
for three years held out against this injustice, though constrained 
to bend at last. At length Captain Denny, who was Grovernor 
Morris's successor, ventured to disobey those instructions ; how 
that was brought about I shall show hereafter. 

But I am got forward too fast with my story ; there are still 
some transactions to be mentioned, that happened during the 
administration of Governor Morris. 

War being in a manner commenced with France, the govern- 
ment of Massachusetts Bay projected an attack upon Crown 
Point, and sent Mr. Quincy to Pennsylvania, and Mr. Pownall, 
afterwards Governor Pownall, to New York, to solicit assistance. 
As I was in the Assembly, knew its temper, and was_3Ir. 
Qiiincy's countryman, he applied to me for my influence and as- 
sistance. I dictated his address to them, which was well 
received. They voted an aid of ten thousand pounds, to be laid 
out in provisions. Bat, the governor refusing his assent to 
their bill (which included this, with other sums granted for the 
use of the crown), unless a clause were inserted exempting the 
Proprietary estate from bearing any part of the tax that would 
be necessary, the Assembly, though very desirous of making 
their arrant to New Eno-land efi'ectua), were at a loss how to ac- 
complish it. Mr. Quincy labored hard with the governor to 
obtain his assent, but he was obstinate. 

I then suggested a method of doing the business without the 
governor, by orders on the trustees of the Loan Office, which, 
by law, the Assembly had the right of drawing. There was in- 
deed little or no money at the time in the office, and therefore I 
proposed that the orders should be payable in a year, and to 
bear an interest of five per cent. With these orders I supposed 
the provisions might easily be purchased. The Assembly, with 
very little hesitation, adopted the proposal. The orders were 
immediately printed, and I was one of the committee directed to 
sign and dispose of them. The fund for paying them was the 
interest of all the paper currency then extant in the province 
upon loan, together with the revenue arising from the excise, 
which being known to be more than sufficient, they obtained 
credit, and were not only taken in payment for the provisions, 
but many moneyed people, who had cash lying by them, vested 
it in those orders, which they found advantageous, as they bore 



iET. 49.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 229 

interest while upon hand, and might, on any occasion, be used 
as money. So that they were eagerly all bought up, and, in a 
few weeks, none of them was to be seen. Thus this important 
affair was by my means completed. Mr. Quincy returned thanks 
to the Assembly in a handsome memorial, went home highly 
pleased with the success of his embassy, and ever after bore for 
me the most cordial and affectionate friendship. 

The British government, not choosing to permit the union of 
the colonies as proposed at Albany, and to trust that union with 
their defence, lest they should thereby grow too military, and 
feel their own strength, — suspicion and jealousies at this time be- 
ing entertained of them, — sent over General Braddock with two 
regiments of regular English troops for that purpose. He 
landed at Alexandria, in Virginia, and thence marched to Fred- 
ericktown, in Maryland, where he halted for carriages. Our 
Assembly apprehending, from some information, that he had re- 
ceived violent prejudices against them, as averse to the service, 
wished me to wait upon him, not as from them, but as postmaster- 
general, under the guise of proposing to settle with him the 
mode of conducting with most celerity and certainty the de- 
spatches between him and the governors of the several provinces, 
with whom he must necessarily have continual correspondence ; 
and of which they proposed to pay the expense. My son accom- 
panied me on this journey. 

We found the general at Fredericktown, waiting impatiently 
for the return of those he had sent through' the back parts of 
Maryland and Virginia to collect wagons. I stayed with him 
several days, dined with him daily, and had full opportunities 
of removing his prejudices, by the information of what the As- 
sembly had before his arrival actually done, and were still will- 
ing to do, to facilitate his operations. When I was about to 
depart, the returns of wagons to be obtained were brought in, 
by which it appeared that they amounted only to twenty-five, 
and not all of those were in serviceable condition. The general 
and all the ofiicers were surprised, declared the expedition was 
then at an end, being impossible ; and exclaimed against the 
ministers for ignorantly sending them into a country destitute 
of the means of conveying their stores, baggage, &c., not less 
than one hundred and fifty wagons being necessary. 

I happened to say I thought it was a pity they had not been 
landed in Pennsylvania, as in that country almost every farmer 
had his wagon. The general eagerly laid hold of my words, 
and said, " Then you, sir, who are a man of interest there, can 
probably procure them for us ; and I beg you will undertake 
20 



i230 franklin's select works. [1755. 

it." I asked what terms were to be offered tlie owners of the 
wagons ; and I was desired to put on paper the terms that ap- 
peared to me necessary. This I did, and they were agreed to, 
and a commission and instructions accordingly prepared imme- 
diately. What those terms were will appear in the advertise- 
ment I published as soon as I arrived at Lancaster; which 
being, from the great and sudden effect it produced, a piece of 
some curiosity, I shall insert it at length, as follows : 

" Advertisement. 

"Lancaster, April 2Cth, 1755. 

" Whereas, one hundred and fifty wagons, with four horses to 
each wagon, and fifteen hundred saddle or pack horses, are 
wanted for the service of his majesty's forces, now about to ren- 
dezvous at Will's Creek ; and his Excellency, Greneral Braddock, 
having been pleased to empower me to contract for the hire of 
the same ; I hereby give notice, that I shall attend for that 
.purpose at Lancaster from this day to next Wednesday even- 
ing, and at York from next Thursday morning till Friday 
evening, where I shall be ready to agree for wagons and teams, 
or single horses, on the following terms, namely : 1. That there 
shall be paid for each wagon, with four good horses and a driver, 
fifteen shillings per diem ; and for each able horse with a 
pack-saddle, or other saddle and furniture, two shillings per 
diem ; and for each able horse without a saddle, eighteen pence 
per diem. 2. That the pay commence from the time of their 
joining the forces at Will's Creek, which must be on or before 
the 20th of May ensuing ; and that a reasonable allowance be 
paid over and above for the time necessary for their travelling 
to Will's Creek and home again after their discharge. 3. Each 
wagon and team, and every saddle or pack-horse, is to be valued 
by indifferent persons chosen between me and the owner; and, 
in case of the loss of any wagon, team or other horse, in the 
service, the price, according to such valuation, is to be allowed 
and paid. 4. Seven days' pay is to be advanced and paid in 
hand by me to the owner of each wagon and team, or horse, at 
the time of contracting, if required ; and the remainder to be 
paid by General Braddock, or by the paymaster of the army, 
at the time of their discharge ; or from time to time, as it shall 
be demanded. 5. No drivers of wagons, or persons taking care 
of the hired horses, are, on any account, to be called upon to do 
the duty of soldiers, or be otherwise employed than in conduct- 
ing or taking care of their carriages or horses. 6. All oats, 



JET. 49.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPirr. 231 

Indian corn, or otiier forage tliat wagons or horses bring to the 
camp, more than is necessary for the subsistence of the horses, 
is to be taken for the use of the army, and a reasonable price 
paid for the same. 

" Note. — My son, William Franklin, is empowered to enter 
into like contracts with any person in Cumberland County. 

" JB. Franklin." 

'' To the Inhabitants of the Counties of Lancaster ^ York^ and 

Cumberland. 

" Friends and Countrymen : 

" Being occasionally at the camp at Frederick a few days 
since, I found the general and officers extremely exasperated on 
account of their not being supplied with horses and carriages, 
which had been expected from this province, as most able to 
furnish them ; but, through the dissensions between our governor 
and Assembly, money had not been provided, nor any steps 
taken for that purpose. 

" It was proposed to send an armed force immediately into 
these counties, to seize as many of the best carriages and horses 
as should be wanted, and compel as many persons into the ser- 
vice as would be necessary to drive and take care of them. 

" I apprehended that the progress of British soldiers through 
these counties, on such an occasion, especially considering the 
temper they are in, and their resentment against us, would be 
attended with many and great inconveniences to the inhabitants, 
and therefore more willingly took the trouble of trying first 
what might be done by fair and equitable means. The people 
of these back counties have lately complained to the Assembly 
that a sufficient currency was wanting ; you have an opportunity 
of receiving and dividing among you a very considerable sum ; 
for, if the service of this expedition should continue, as it is 
more than probable it will, for one hundred and twenty days, 
the hire of these wagons and horses will amount to upwards of 
thirty thousand pounds ; which will be paid you in silver and 
gold, of the king's money. 

" The service will be light and easy, for the army will scarce 
march above twelve miles per day, and the wagons and baggage 
horses, as they carry those things that are absolutely necessary 
to the welfare of the army, must march with the army, and no 
laster ; and are, for the army's sake, always placed where they 
can be most secure, whether in a march or in a camp. 

" If you are really, as I believe you are, good and loyal sub- 
jects to his majesty, you may now do a most acceptable service 



232 franklin's select works. [1-55. 

and make it easy to yourselves; for three or four of such as 
canuot separately spare from the business of their plantations 
a wagon and four horses and a driver, may do it together, — one 
furnishing the wagon, another one or two horses, and another 
the driver, — and divide the pay proportionably between you. 
But, if you do not this service to your king and country volun- 
tarily, when such good pay and reasonable terms are offered to 
you, your loyalty will be strongly suspected. The king's business 
must be done ; so many brave troops, come so far for your de- 
fence, must not stand idle through your backwardness to do 
what may be reasonably expected from jou ; wagons and horses 
must be had ; violent measures will probably be used ; and you 
will be left to seek for a recompense where you can find it, and 
your case, perhaps, be little pitied or regarded. 

"I have no particular interest in this affair, as, except the 
satisfaction of endeavoring to do good, I shall have only my 
labor for my pains. If this method of obtainiitg the wagons 
and horses is not likely to succeed, I am obliged to send word 
to the general in fourteen days ; and I suppose Sir John St. 
Clair, ihe hussar, wdth a body of soldiers, will immediately enter 
the province for the purpose ; which I shall be sorry to hear, 
because I am very sincerely and truly your friend and well-wisher, 

" B. Franklin." 

I received of the general about eight hundred pounds, to 
be disbursed in advance money to the wagon-owners; but, that 
sum being insufiicient, I advanced upwards of two hundred 
pounds more ; and, in two weeks, the one hundred and fifty 
wagons, with two hundred and fifty-nine carrying-horses, were on 
their march for the camp. The advertisement promised payment 
according to the valuation, in case any wagons or horses should 
be lost. The owners, however, alleging they did not know Gen- 
eral Braddock, or what dependence might be had on his promise, 
insisted on my bond for the performance ; which I accordingly 
gave them. 

While I was at the camp, supping one evening with the offi- 
cers of Colonel Dunbar's regiment, he represented to me his 
concern for the subalterns, who, he said, were generally not in 
affluence, and could ill afford, in this dear country, to lay in the 
stores that might be necessary in so long a march through a 
wilderness, where nothing was to be purchased. I commiserated 
their case, and resolved to endeavor procuring them some relief! 
I said nothing, however, to him of my intention, Out wrote the 
next morning to the committee of the Assembly who had the 



MT. 49.] HTS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 233 

disposition of some public money, warmly recommending the 
case of these officers to their consideration, and proposing that a 
present should be sent them of necessaries and refreshments. 
My son, who had some experience of a camp life, and of its 
wants, drew up a list for me, which I enclosed in my letter. 
The committee approved, and used such diligence, that, con- 
ducted by my son, the stores arrived at the camp as soon as the 
wagons. They consisted of twenty parcels, each containing 

G lbs. loaf sugar. 1 Gloucester cheese. 

6 do. Muscovado do. 1 kegcoutaining 20 lbs. good butter 

1 do. green tea. 2 dozen old Madeira wine. 

1 do. bohea do. 2 gallons Jamaica spirits. 

6 do. ground coflFee. 1 bottle flower of mustard 

6 do. chocolate. 2 well-cured hams. 

1 chest best white biscuit. 2 dozen dried tongues. 

1 lb. pepper. 6 lbs. rice. 

1 quart white vinegar. 6 lbs. raisins. 

These parcels, well packed, were placed on as many horses, 
each parcel, with the horse, being intended as a present for one 
officer. They were very thankfully received, and the kindness 
acknowledged by letters to me, from the colonels of both regi- 
ments, in the most grateful terms. The general, too, was highly 
satisfied with my conduct in procuring him the wagons, and 
readily paid my account of disbursements ; thanking me repeat- 
edly, and requesting my further assistance in sending provisions 
after him. I undertook this also, and was busily employed in 
it till we heard of his defeat ; advancing for the service, of my 
own money, upwards of one thousand pounds sterling, of which 
I sent him an account. It came to his hands, luckily for me, a 
few days before the battle, and he returned me immediately an 
order on the paymaster for the round sum of one thousand 
pounds, leaving the remainder to the next account. I consider 
this payment as good luck, having never been able to obtain 
that remainder ; of which more hereafter. 

This general was, I think, a brave man, and might probably 
have made a figure as a good officer in some European war. But 
he had too much self-confidence, too high an opinion of the validity 
of regular troops, and too mean a one of both Americans and 
Indians. George Croghan, our Indian interpreter, joined him on 
his march, with one hundred of those people, who might have 
been of great use to his army as guides and scouts, if he had 
treated them kindly; but he slighted and neglected them, and 
they gradually left him. 

In conversation with him one day, he was giving me some 
account of his intended progress. " After taking Fort Duquesne,' 
20^ 



234 franklin's select works. [itss. 

said he, " I am to proceed to Niagara ; and, having taken that, 
to Frontenac, if the season will allow time, and I suppose it will ; 
for Dequesne can hardly detain me above three or four days, 
and then I see nothing that can obstruct my march to Niagara." 
Having before revolved in my mind the long line his army must 
make in their march by a very narrow road, to be cut for them 
through the woods and bushes, and also what I had read of a 
former defeat of fifteen hundred French, who invaded the Illinois 
country, I had conceived some doubts and some fears for the 
event of the campaign. But I ventured only to say, " To be 
sure, sir, if you arrive well before Duquesne, with these fine 
troops, so well provided with artillery, the fort, though completely 
fortified, and assisted Avith a very strong garrison, can probably 
make but a short resistance. The only danger I apprehend of 
obstruction to your march is from the ambuscades of the Indians, 
who, by constant practice, are dexterous in laying and executing 
them ; and the slender line, near four miles long, which your 
army must make, may expose it to be attacked by surprise in its 
flanks, and to be cut like a thread into several pieces, which, 
from their distance, cannot come up in time to support each 
other." 

He smiled at my ignorance, and replied, " These savages may 
indeed be a formidable enemy to your raw American militia ; 
but upon the king's regular and disciplined troops, sir, it is im- 
possible they should make any impression." I was conscious of 
an impropriety in my disputing with a military man in matters 
of his profession, and said no more. The enemy, however, did 
not take the advantage of his army which I apprehended its 
long line of march exposed it to, but let it advance without 
interruption till within nine miles of the place ; and then, when 
more in a body (for it had just passed a river, where the front 
had halted till all were come over), and in a more open part of 
the woods than any it had passed, attacked its advanced guard 
by a ^ heavy fire from behind trees and bushes ; which was the 
fi.rst intelligence the general had of an enemy's being near him. 
This guard being disordered, the general hurried the troops up 
to their assistance, which was done in great confusion, through 
wagons, baggage, and cattle ; and presently the fire came upon 
their flank ; the ofiicers, being on horseback, were more easily 
distinguished, picked out as marks, and fell very fast ; and the 
soldiers were crowded together in a huddle, having or hearing no 
orders, and standing to be shot at till two-thirds of them were 
killed ; and then, being seized with a panic, the remainder fled 
with precipitation. 



^T.49.] HIS AUTOBIOGEAPHT. 23'D 

The wao;oners took each a horse out of his team and scam- 
pered ; their example was immediately followed by others ; so that 
all the wagons, provisions, artillery and stores, were left to the 
enemy. The general, being wounded, was brought off with diffi- 
culty ; his secretary, Mr. Shirley, was killed by his side, and 
out of eighty-six officers sixty-three were killed or wounded ; and 
seven hundred and fourteen men killed of eleven hundred. These 
eleven hundred had been picked men from the whole army ; the 
rest had been left behind with Colonel Dunbar, who was to follow 
with the heavier part of the stores, provisions, and baggage. 
The flyers, not being pursued, arrived at Dunbar's camp, and 
the panic they brought with them instantly seized him and all 
his people. And, though he had now above one thousand men, 
and the enemy who had beaten Braddock did not at most exceed 
four hundred Indians and French together, instead of proceeding 
and endeavoring to recover some of the lost honor, he ordered all 
the stores, ammunition, &c., to be destroyed, that he might have 
more horses to assist his flight towards the settlements, and less 
lumber to remove. He was there met with requests from the 
Governors of Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania, that he 
would post his troops on the frontiers, so as to afford some pro- 
tection to the inhabitants ; but he continued his hasty march 
through all the country, not thinking himself safe till he arrived 
at Philadelphia, where the inhabitants could protect him. This 
whole transaction gave us Americans the first suspicion that our 
exalted ideas of the prowess of British regular troops had not 
been well founded. 

In their first march, too, from their landing till they got beyond 
the settlements, they had plundered and stripped the inhabitants, 
totally ruining some poor families, besides insulting, abusing, and 
confining the people, if they remonstrated. This was enough to 
put us out of conceit of such defenders, if we had really wanted 
any. How difl'erent was the conduct of our French friends in 
1781, who, during a march through the most inhabited part of 
our country, from Bhode Island to Virginia, near seven hundred 
miles, occasioned not the smallest complaint for the loss of a pig, 
a chicken, or even an apple. 

Captain Orme, who was one of the general's aids-de-camp, 
and, being grievously wounded, was brought off with him, and 
continued with him to his death, which happened in a few days, 
told me that he was totally silent all the first day, and at night 
only said " Who would have thought it ? " That he was silent 
again the following day, saying only, at last, ' We shall better 
know how to deal with them another time;" and died in a few 
minutes after. 



236 franklin's select works. [1755 

The secretary's papers, with all the general's orders, initruc- 
tions and correspondence, ftilling into the enemy's hands they 
selected and translated into French a number of the articles 
which they printed, to prove the hostile intentions of the British 
court before the declaration of war. Among these I saw seme 
letters of the general to the ministry, speaking highly of the 
great service I had rendered the army, and recommending me to 
their notice. David Hume, who was some years after secretary 
to Lord Hertford, when minister in France, and afterwards to 
General Conway, when secretary of state, told me he had seen 
among the papers in that office letters from Braddock highly 
recommending me. But, the expedition having been unfortunate, 
my service, it seems, was not thought of much value, for those 
recommendations were never of any use to me. 

As to rewards from himself, I asked only one, which was, that he 
would give orders to his officers not to enlist any more of our bought 
servants, and that he would discharge such as had been already 
enlisted. This he readily granted, and several were accordingly 
returned to their masters, on my application. Dunbar, when 
the command devolved on him, was not so generous. He being 
at Philadelphia on his retreat, or rather flight, I applied to him 
for the discharge of the servants of three poor farmers of Lan- 
caster County that he had enlisted, reminding him of the late 
general's orders on that head. He promised me that, if the 
masters would come to him at Trenton, where he should be in a 
few days, on his march to New York, he would there deliver their 
men to them. They accordingly were at the expense and trouble 
of going to Trenton, and there he refused to perform his promise, 
to their great loss and disappointment. 

As soon as the loss of the wagons and horses was generally 
known, all the owners came upon me for the valuation which I 
had given bond to pay. Their demands gave me a great deal of 
trouble. I acquainted them that the money was ready in the 
paymaster's hands, but the order for paying it must first be 
obtained from General Shirley; and that I had applied for it, 
but, he being at a distance, an answer could not soon be received, 
and they must have patience. All this, however, was not suffi- 
cient to satisfy them, and some began to sue me. General Shirley 
at length relieved me from this terrible situation, by appointing 
commissioners to examine the claims, and ordering payment. 
They amounted to near twenty thousand pounds, which to pay 
would have ruined me. 

Before we had the news of this defeat, the two doctors Bond 
came to me with a subscription paper for raising money to defi-ay 



^T. 49.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 237 

the expense of a grand firework, which it was intended to exhibit 
at a rejoicing on receiving the news of our taking Fort Duquesne. 
I looked grave, and said it would, I thought, be time enough to 
prepare the rejoicing when we knew we should have occasion to 
rejoice. Thej seemed surprised that I did not immediately com- 
ply with their proposal. " Why, the d — 1 ! " said one of them, 
" you surely don't suppose that the fort will not be taken ? " "I 
don't know that it will not be taken ; but I know that the 
events of war are subject to great uncertainty^" I gave them 
the reasons of my doubting ; the subscription was dropped, and 
the projectors thereby missed the mortification they would have 
undergone if the firework had been prepared. Dr. Bond, on 
some other occasion afterwards, said that he did not like Frank 
lin's forebodings.^ 



CHAPTER X. 

Commissioner for Disbursing Money for Public Defence — His Militia Bill 
— Appointed to take Charge of the Frontier and build Forts — March — 
Military Preparations — Indian Massacre — Arrival at Gnadenhutten — 
New Mode of securing Punctuality at Prayers — The Moravians — Their 
Marriages — Colonel Franklin — Journey to Virginia — Offered a Com- 
mission as General — Account of his Electrical Discoveries — A Member 
of the Royal Society — Receives the Copley Medal. 

Governor Morris, who had continually worried the Assembly 
with messao;e after messao;e before the defeat of Braddock, to 
beat them into the making of acts to raise money for the defence 
of the province, without taxing among others the Proprietary 
estates, and had rejected all their bills for not having such an 
exempting clause, now redoubled his attacks, with more hope of 
success, the danger and necessity being greater. The Assembly, 
however, continued firm, believing they had justice on their side, 
and that it would be giving up an essential right if they suffered 
the governor to amend their money bills. In one of the last, 
indeed, which was for granting fifty thousand pounds, his pro- 
posed amendment was only of a single word. The bill expressed, 

* About this time Franklin cooperated with other philanthropic citizens 
in carrying out a plan for improving the condition of the Germans in 
America. 



238 franklin's select works. ll<55. 

*' that all estates real and personal were to be taxed, tliose of 
the Proprietaries not excepted." His amendment was, — for not 
read only. A small, but very material alteration. However, 
when the news of the disaster teached England, our friends there, 
whom we had taken care to furnish with all the Assembly's 
answers to the governor's messages, raised a clamor against the 
Proprietaries for their meanness and injustice in giving their 
governor such instructions ; some going so far as to say that, 
by obstructing the defence of their province, they forfeited their 
right to it. They were intimidated by this ; and sent orders to 
their receiver-general to add five thousand pounds of their money 
to whatever smn might be given by the Assembly for such pur- 
pose. 

This, being testified to the House, was accepted in lieu of 
their share of a general tax, and a new bill was formed with an 
exempting clause, which passed accordingly. By this act I was 
appointed one of the commissioners for disposing of the money, 
sixty thousand pounds. I had been active in modelling the bill, 
and procuring its passage ; and had at the same time drawn one 
for establishing and disciplining a voluntary militia, which I 
carried through the House without much difficulty, as care was 
taken in it to leave the Quakers at liberty. To promote the 
association necessary to form the militia, I wrote a dialogue 
stating and answering all the objections I could think of to such 
a militia ; which was printed, and had, as I thought, great efiect. 

While the several companies in the city and country were 
forming, and learning their exercise, the governor prevailed 
with me to take charge of our north-western frontier, which was 
infested by the enemy, and provide for the defence of the in- 
habitants by raising troops and building a line of forts. I under- 
took this military business, though I did not conceive myself 
well qualified for it. He gave me a commission with full powers, 
and a parcel of blank commissions for officers, to be given to 
whom 1 thought fit. I had but little difficulty in raising men, 
having soon five hundred and sixty under my command. My 
son, who had in the preceding war been an officer in the army 
raised against Canada, was my aid-de-camp, and of great use to 
me. The Indians had burned Gnadenhutten, a village settled 
by the Moravians, and massacred the inhabitants ; but the place 
was thought a good situation for one of the forts. 

In order to march thither, I assembled the companies at 
Bethlehem, the chief establishment of these people. I was sur- 
prised to find it in so good a posture of defence ; the destruction 
of Gnadenhutten had made them apprehend danger. The princi- 



^T. 50.] HIS AUTOBIOGEAPHY. 230 

pal buildings were defended by a stockade ; they had purchased 
a quantity of arms and ammunition from New York, and had 
even placed quantities of small paving-stones between the win- 
dows of their high stone houses, for their women to throw them 
down upon the heads of any Indians that should attempt to 
force into them. The armed brethren, too, kept watch, and re- 
lieved each other on guard, as methodically as in any garrison 
town. In conversation with the bishop, Spangenberg, I men- 
tioned my surprise ; for, knowing they had obtained an act of 
Parliament exempting them from military duties in the colonies, 
I had supposed they were conscientiously scrupulous of bearing 
arms. He answered me that it was not one of their established 
principles, but that at the time of their obtaining that act it 
was thought to be a principle with many of their people. On 
this occasion, however, they, to their surprise, found it adopted by 
but a few. It seems they were either deceived in themselves, 
or deceived the Parliament ; but common sense, aided by present 
danger, will sometimes be too strong for whimsical opinions. 

It was the beginning of January when we set out upon this 
business of buildinfj; forts. I sent one detachment towards the 
Minisink, with instructions to erect one for the security of that 
upper part of the country ; and another to the lower part, with 
similar instructions ; and I concluded to go myself with the rest 
of my force to Gnadenhutten, where a fort was thought more 
immediately necessary. The Moravians procured me live wagons 
for our tools, stores and baggao-e. 

Just before we left Bethlehem, eleven farmers, who had been 
driven from their plantations by the Indians, came to me, re- 
questing a supply of fire-arms, that they might go back and bring 
otf their cattle. I gave them each a gnn, with suitable ammuni- 
tion. We had not marched many miles before it began to rain, 
and it continued raining all day ; there were no habitations on 
the road to shelter us, till we arrived near night at the house of 
a German, where, and in his barn, we were all huddled together, as 
wet as water could make us. It was well we were not attacked 
in our march, for our arms were of the most ordinary sort, and 
our men could not keep the locks of their guns dry. The Indians 
are dexterous in contrivances for that purpose, which we had 
not. They met that day the eleven poor farmers above men- 
tioned, and killed ten of them. The one that escaped informed 
us that his and his companions' guns would not go oil, the prim- 
ino; beini>- wet with the rain. 

The next day being fair, we continued our march, and arrived 
at the desolated Gnadenhutten. There was a mill near, round 



240 franklin's select works. [Hsg 

which were left several pine boards, with which we soon hutted 
ourselves ; an operation the more necessary at that inclement 
season, as v/e had no tents. Our first work was to bury more 
effectually the dead we found there, who had been half-interred 
by the country people. 

The next morning our fort was planned and marked out, the 
circumference measuring four hundred and fifty -five feet, which 
would require as many palisades to be made, one with another,- 
of a foot diameter each. Our axes, of which we had seventy, 
were immediately set to work to cut down trees ; and, our men 
being dexterous in the use of them, great despatch was made. 
Seeing the trees fall so fast, I had the curiosity to look at my 
watch when two men began to cut at a pine ; in six minutes they 
had it upon the ground, and I found it of fourteen inches diame 
ter. Each pine made three palisades of eighteen feet long, 
pointed at one end. While these were preparing, our other men 
dug a trench all round, of three feet deep, in which the palisades 
were to be planted ; and, the bodies being taken off our wagons, 
and the fore and hind wheels separated by taking out the pin 
which united the two parts of the perch, we had ten carriages 
with two horses each, to bring the palisades from the woods to 
the spot. When they were set up, our carpenters built a plat- 
form of boards all round within, about six feet high, for the 
men to stand on when to fire through the loop-holes. We had 
one swivel gun, which we mounted on one of the angles, and 
fired it as soon as fixed, to let the Indians know, if any were 
within hearing, that we had such pieces; and thus our fort — if 
that name may be given to so miserable a stockade — was finished 
in a week, though it rained so hard, every other day, that the 
men could not work. 

This gave me occasion to observe that, when men are em- 
ployed, they are best contented ; for on the days they worked 
they were good-natured and cheerful, and, with the consciousness 
of having done a good day's work, they spent the evening jollily ; 
but on our idle days they were mutinous and quarrelsome, find- 
ing fault with the pork, the bread, &c., and were continually in 
bad humor ; which put me in mind of a sea-captain, whose rule 
it was to keep his men constantly at work ; and when his mate 
once told him that they had done everything, and there was 
nothing further to employ them about, " 0," said he, " make 
them scour the anchor." 

This kind of fort, however contemptible, is a sufficient defence 
against Indians, who have no cannon. Finding ourselves now 
posted securely, and having a place to retreat to on occasion, we 



^T. 50.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 241 

ventured out in parties to scour the adjacent country. We met 
with no Indians, but we found the places on the neighboring 
hills where they had lain to watch our proceedings. There was 
an art in their contrivance of those places that seems worth 
mentioning. It being winter, a fire was necessary for them ; but 
a common fire on the surface of the ground would, by its light, 
have discovered their position at a distance. They had therefore 
dug holes in the ground about three feet diameter, and somewhat 
deeper ; we found where they had with their hatchets cut ofi" the 
charcoal from the sides of burnt logs lying in the woods. With 
these coals they had made small fires in the bottom of the holes, 
and we observed among the weeds and grass the prints of their 
bodies, made by their lying all round with their legs hanging 
down in the holes to keep their feet warm ; which, with them, is 
an essential point. This kind of fire, so managed, could not dis- 
cover them, either by its light, flame, sparks, or even smoke ; it 
appeared that the number was not great, and it seems they saw 
we were too many to be attacked by them with prospect of 
advantage. 

We had for our chaplain a zealous Presbyterian minister, Mr. 
Beatty, who complained to me that the men did not generally 
attend his prayers and exhortations. When they enlisted they 
were promised, besides pay and provisions, a gill of rum a day, 
which was punctually served out to them, half in the morning, 
and the other half in the evening ; and I observed they were 
punctual in attending to receive it ; upon which I said to Mr. 
Beatty, " It is perhaps below the dignity of your profession to 
act as steward of the rum ; but, if you were only to distribute it 
out after prayers, you would have them all about you." He 
liked the thought, undertook the task, and, with the help of a 
few hands to measure out the liquor, executed it to satisfaction ; 
and never were prayers more generally and more punctually at- 
tended. So that I think this method preferable to the punish- 
ment inflicted by some military laws for non-attendance on divine 
service. 

I had hardly finished this business, and got my fort well stored 
with provisions, when I received a letter from the governor, 
acquainting me that he had called the Assembly, and wished my 
attendance there, if the posture of aflkirs on the frontiers was 
such that my remaining there was no longer necessary. My 
friends, too, of the Assembly, pressing me by their letters to be, 
if possible, at the meeting, and my three intended forts being 
now completed, and the inhabitants contented to remain on their 
I farms under that protection, I resolved to return ; the more will- 
21 



242 franklin's select works. [hss. 

mgly, as a New England officer, Colonel Clapbam, experienced 
in Indian war, being on a visit to our establishment, consented 
to accept the command. I gave him a commission, and, parading 
the garrison, had it read before them ; and introduced him to 
them as an officer, who, from his skill in military affairs, was 
much more fit to command them than myself; and, giving them 
a little exhortation, took my leave. I was escorted as far as 
Bethlehem, where I rested a few days, to recover from the fatigue 
I had undergone. The first night, lying in a good bed, I could 
hardly sleep, it was so difli"erent from my hard lodgings on the 
floor of a hut at Grnadenhutten, with only a blanket or two. 

While at Bethlehem, I inquired a little into the practices of 
the Moravians ; some of them had accompanied me, and all 
were very kind to me. I found they worked for a common 
stock, ate at common tables, and slept in common dormitories, 
great numbers together. In the dormitories I observed loop- 
holes, at certain distances, all along just under the ceiling, which 
I thought judiciously placed for change of air. 1 went to their 
church, where I was entertained with good music, the organ be- 
ing accompanied with violins, hautboys, flutes, clarinets, &c. I 
understood their sermons were not usually preached to mixed 
congregations of men, women and children, as is our common 
practice ; but that they assembled sometimes the married men, 
at other times their wives, then the young men, the young 
women, and the little children ; each division by itself. The ser- 
mon I heard was to the latter, who came in and were placed in 
rows on benches ; the boys under the conduct of a young man, 
their tutor, and the girls conducted by a young woman. The 
discourse seemed well adapted to their capacities, and was deliv- 
ered in a pleasing, familiar manner, coaxing them, as it were, to 
be good. They behaved very orderly, but looked pale and un- 
healthy ; which made me suspect they were kept too much within 
doors, or not allowed sufficient exercise. 

I inquired concerning the Moravian marriages, whether the 
report was true that they were by lot. I was told that lots 
were used only in particular cases ; that generally, when a young 
man found himself disposed to marry, he informed the elders of 
his class, who consulted the elder ladies, that governed the young 
women. As these elders of the difierent sexes were well ac- 
quainted with the tempers and dispositions of their respective 
pupils, they could best judge what matches were suitable, and 
their judgments were generally acquiesced in. But if, for ex- 
ample, it should happen that two or three young women were 
found to be equally proper for the young man, the lot was then 



^T. 50.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 243 

recurred to. I objected, if tlie matclies are not made by the 
mutual choice of the parties, some of them may chance to be 
very unhappy. " And so thoy may," answered my informer, 
" if you let the parties choose for themselves." Which indeed I 
could not deny. 

Being returned to Philadelphia, I found the association went 
on with great success. The inhabitants that were not Quakers, 
having pretty generally come into it, formed themselves into com- 
panies, and chose their captains, lieutenants and ensigns, accord- 
ing to the new law. Dr. Bond visited me, and gave me an 
account of the pains he had taken to spread a general good liking 
to the law, and ascribed much to those endeavors. I had the 
vanity to ascribe all to my Dialogue; however, not knowing but 
that he might be in the right, I let him enjoy his opinion, which 
I take to be generally the best way in such cases. The officers, 
meeting, chose me to be colonel of the regiment, which I this 
time accepted. I forget how many companies we had, but we 
paraded about twelve hundred well-looking men, with a company 
of artillery, who had been furnished with six brass fieldpieces, 
which they had become so expert in the use of as to fire twelve 
times in a minute. The first time I reviewed my regiment, they 
accompanied me to my house, and would salute me with some 
rounds fired before my door, which shook down and broke several 
glasses of my electrical apparatus. And my new honor proved 
not much less brittle ; for all our commissions were soon after 
broken, by a repeal of the law in England. 

During this short time of my colonelship, being about to set 
out on a journey to Virginia, the officers of my regiment took it 
into their heads that it would be proper for them to escort me 
out of town, as far as the Lower Ferry. Just as I was getting 
on horseback, they came to my door, between thirty and fort}'', 
mounted, and all in their uniforms. I had not been previously 
acquainted with their project, or I should have prevented it, be- 
ing naturally averse to the assuming of state on any occasion ; 
and I was a good deal chagrined at their appearance, as I could 
not avoid their accompanying me. AVhat made it worse was, 
that, as soon as we began to move, they drew their swords and 
rode with them naked all the way. Somebody wrote an account 
of this to the Proprietor, and it gave him great offence. No 
such honor had been paid to him when in the province, nor to 
any of his governors ; and he said it was only proper to princes 
of the blood royal, which may be true for aught I know, who 
was, and still am, ignorant of the etiquette in such cases. 

This silly affair, however, greatly increased his rancor against 



244 franklin's select works. [1756 

me, which was before considerable, on account of my conduct in 
the Assembly respecting the exemption of his estate from taxa- 
tion, which I had always opposed very warmly, and not without 
severe reflections on the meanness and injustice of contending for 
it. He accused me to the ministry, as being the great obstacle 
to the king's service, preventing, by my influence in the House, 
the proper form of the bills for raising money ; and he instanced 
the parade with my officers, as a proof of my having an inten- 
tion to take the government of the province out of his hands by 
force. He also applied to Sir Everard Fawkener, the Postmas- 
ter-general, to deprive me of my office. But it had no other 
effect than to procure from Sir Everard a gentle admonition. 

Notwithstanding the continual wrangle between the governor 
and the House, in which I, as a member, had so large a share, 
there still subsisted a civil intercourse between that gentleman 
and myself, and we never had any personal difference. I have 
sometimes since thought that his little or no resentment against 
me, for the answers it was known I drew up to his messages, 
might be the effect of professional habit ; and that, being bred a 
lawyer, he might consider us both as merely advocates for con- 
tending clients in a suit, — he for the Proprietaries, and I for the 
Assembly. He would therefore sometimes call, in a friendly 
way, to advise with me on difficult points ; and sometimes, though 
not often, take my advice. 

We acted in concert to supply Braddock's army with provi- 
sions ; and, when the shocking news arrived of his defeat, the 
governor sent in haste for me, to consult with him on measures 
for preventing the desertion of the back counties. I forget now 
the advice I gave ; but I think it was, that Dunbar should be 
written to, and prevailed with, if possible, to post his troops on 
the frontiers for their protection, until, by reinforcements from 
the colonies, he might be able to proceed in the expedition. 
And, after my return from the frontier, he would have had me 
undertake the conduct of such an expedition with provincial 
troops, for the reduction of Fort Duquesne, Dunbar and his men 
being otherwise employed ; and he j)roposed to commission me 
as general. I had not so good an opinion of my military abili- 
ties as he professed to have, and I believe his professions must 
have exceeded his real sentiments; but probably he might think 
that my popularity would facilitate the business with the men, 
and influence in the Assembly the grant of money to pay for it ; 
and that, perhaps, without taxing the Proprietary. Finding me 
not so forward to engage as he expected, the project was dropped, 
and he soon after left the government, being superseded by Cap- 
tain Denny. 



^T. 50.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 245 

Before I proceed in relating the part I had in public affairs 
under this new governor's administration, it may not be amisa 
to give here some account of the rise and progress of my philo- 
sophical reputation. 

In 1746, being in Boston, I met there with a Dr. Spence, 
who was lately arrived from Scotland, and showed me some elec- 
tric experiments. They were imperfectly performed, as he was 
not very expert ; but, being on a subject quite new to me, they 
equally surprised and pleased me. Soon after my return to 
Philadelphia, our library company received from Mr. Peter Col- 
liusou, Fellow of the Royal Society of London, a present of a 
glass tube, with some account of the use of it in making such 
experiments. I eagerly seized the opportunity of repeating 
what I had seen at Boston; and, by much practice, acquired 
great readiness in performing those also which we had an account 
of from England, adding a number of new ones. I say much 
practice, for my house was continually fiill, for some time, with 
l^ersons who came to see these new wonders. 

To divide a little this encumbrance among my friends, I caused 
a number of similar tubes to be blown in our glass-house, with 
which they furnished themselves, so that we had at length sev- 
eral performers. Among these, the principal was Mr. Kinnersley, 
an ingenious neighbor, who being out of business, I encouraged 
him to undertake showing the experiments for money, and drew 
up for him two lectures, in which the experiments were ranged 
in such order, and accompanied with explanations in such method, 
as that the foregoing should assist in comprehending the follow- 
ing. He procured an elegant apparatus for the purpose, in 
which all the little machines that I had roughly made for myself 
were neatly formed by instrument makers. His lectures were 
well attended, and gave great satisfaction ; and, after some time, 
he went through the colonies, exhibiting them in every capital 
town, and picked up some money. In the West India Islands, 
indeed, it was with difficulty the experiments could be made, 
from the general moisture of the air. 

Obliged as we were to Mr. CoUinson for the present of the 
tube, tfcc, I thought it right he should be informed of our suc- 
cess in using it, and wrote him several letters containing accounts 
of our experiments. He got them read in the Royal Society, 
where they were not at first thought worth so much notice as to 
be printed in their Transactions. One paper, which I wrote to 
Mr. Kinnersley, on the sameness of lightning with electricitj'. I 
sent to Mr. Mitchel, an acquaintance of mine, and one of the 
members also of that society ; who wrote me word, that it had 



246 franklin's select works. [itsg 

been read, but was laughed at bj the connoisseurs. The papers 
however, being shown to Dr. Fothcrgill, he thought them of too 
much vahie to be stifled, and advised the printing of them. Mr 
Collinson then gave them to Cave for publication in his GentU' 
man's Magazine ; but he chose to print them separately in a 
pamphlet, and Dr. Fothergill wrote the preface. Cave, it seems, 
judged rightly for his profession ; for, by the additions that 
arrived afterwards, they swelled to a quarto volume, which has 
had five editions, and cost him nothing for copy -money. 

It was, however, some time before those papers were much 
taken notice of in England. A copy of them happening to fall 
into the hands of the Count de Buffon, a philosopher deservedly 
of great reputation in France, and indeed all over Europe, he 
prevailed with M. Dubourg to translate them into French ; and 
they were printed at Paris. The publication offended the Abbu 
Nollet, Preceptor in Natural Philosophy to the Royal Family, 
and an able experimenter, who had formed and published a 
theory of electricity, which then had the general vogue. He 
could not at first believe that such a work came from America, 
and said it must have been ftibricated by his enemies at Paris, 
to oppose his system. Afterwards, having been assured that 
there really existed such a person as Franklin at Philadelphia, 
which he had doubted, he wrote and published a volume of 
Letters, chiefly addressed to me, defending his theory, and deny- 
ing the verity of my experiments, and of the positions deduced 
from them. 

I once proposed answering the Abbe, and actually began the 
answer; but, on consideration that my writings contained a de- 
scription of experiments which any one might repeat and verify, 
and, if not to be verified, could not be defended ; or of observa- 
tions ofiered as conjectures, and not delivered dogmatically, 
therefore not laying me under any obligation to defend them; 
and reflecting that a dispute between two persons, written in 
difierent languages, might be lengthened greatly by mistransla- 
tions, and thence misconceptions of one another's meaning, — 
much of one of the Abbe's letters beinsi; founded on an error in the 
translation, — I concluded to let my papers shift for themselves; 
believing it was better to spend what time I could spare from 
public business in making new experiments, than in disputing 
about those already made. I therefore never answered M. 
Nollet ; and the event gave me no cause to repent my silence ; 
for my friend M. Le Roy, of the Royal Academy of Sciences, 
took up my cause and refuted him ; my book was translated into 
the Italian, German, and Latin languages ; and the doctrine it 



^T. 50.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 247 

contained was by degrees generally adopted by the philosopliera 
of Europe, in preference to that of the Abbe ; so that he lived 

to see himself the last of his sect, except Monsieur 13 , of 

Paris, his eUve and immediate disciple. 

What gave my book the more sudden and general celebrity, 
was the success of one of its proposed experiments, made by 
Messieurs Dalibard and De Lor at Marly, for drawing lightning 
from the clouds. This engaged the public attention everywhere. 
M, De Lor, who had an apparatus for experimental philosophy, 
and lectured in that branch of science, undertook to repeat what 
he called the Philadelphia Experiments ; and, after they were 
performed before the king and court, all the curious of Paris 
flocked to see them. I will not swell this narrative with an ac- 
count of that capital experiment, nor of the infinite pleasure I 
received in the success of a similar one I made soon after with a 
kite at Philadelphia, as both are to be found in the histories of 
electricity. 

Dr. Wright, an English physician, when at Paris, wrote to a 
friend, who was of the Royal Society, an account of the high 
esteem my experiments were in among the learned abroad, and 
of their worder that my writings had been so little noticed in 
England. /The society, on this, resumed the consideration of the 
letters thu/ had be«a lead to them; and the celebrated Dr. 
Watson drc»,' up ft summary account of them, and of all I had 
afterwards, se^t to England on the subject, which he accom- 
panied with some praise of the writer. This summary was then 
printed in their Transactions ; and, some members of the so- 
ciety in London, particularly the very ingenious Mr. Canton, 
having verified the experiment of procuring lightning from the 
clouds by a pointed rod, and acquainted them with the success, 
they soon made me more than amends for the slight with which 
they had before treated me. Without my having made any ap- 
plication for that honor, they chose me a member, and voted 
that I should be excused the customary payments, which would 
have amounted to twenty-five guineas ; and ever since have 
given me their Transactions gratis."^ They also presented me 
with the gold medal of Sir Godfrey Copley, for the year 1753, 
the delivery of which was accompanied by a very handsome 
speech of the president. Lord Macclesfield, wherein I was highly 
honored. 

* Subsequently looking at the minutes of the society, Franklin found that 
the certificate, worded very advantageously for him, was signed by Lora 
Macclesfield, then President, Lord Parker, and Lord AV'illoughby ; that the 
election was by a unanimous vote; and, the honor being voluntarily con- 
ferred by the society, unsolicited by Franklin, it was thought wrong to 
demand or receive the usual fees or composition. 



248 franklin's select works. [175T 



CHAPTER XI. 

Overtures from Gov. Denny — The Assembly and the Proprietaries — Frank- 
lin deputed to go to England as Agent of the Assembly — Discussion be- 
fore Lord Loudoun — Vexatious Delays — Anecdote — Departure with 
his Son for England — Anecdote of Shirley — Incidents of the Voyage — 
Arrival in London. 

Ouii new governor, Captain Dennj, brought over for me the 
before-mentioned medal from the Koyal Society, which he pre 
sented to me at an entertainment given him by the city. He 
accompanied it with very polite expressions of his esteem for 
me, having, as he said, been long acquainted with my character. 
After dinner, when the company, as was customary at that time, 
were engaged in drinking, he took me aside into another room, 
and acquainted me that he had been advised by his friends in 
England to cultivate a friendship with me, as one who was 
capable of giving him the best advice, and of contributing most 
effectually to the making his administration eas^^''. That he 
therefore desired, of all things, to have a grood understa iding with 
me; and he begged me to be assured of his readine on all oc- 
casions to render me every service that might; 'be in- his power. 
He said much to me also of the Proprietor's go*^-^ disposition 
towards the province, and of the advantage it would be to us all, 
and to me in particular, if the opposition that had been so long 
continued to his measures was dropped, and harmony restored 
between him and the people; in effecting which, it was thought 
no one could be more serviceable than myself; and I might 
depend on adequate acknowledgments and recompenses. The 
drinkers, finding we did not return immediately to the table, 
sent us a decanter of madeira, which the governor made a liberal 
use of, and in proportion became more profuse of his solicita- 
tions and promises. 

My answers were to this purpose: that my circumstances, 
thanks to Grod, were such as to make Proprietary favors un- 
necessary to me ; and that, being a member of the Assembly, 
I could not possibly accept of any ; that, however, I had no 
personal enmity to the Proprietary, and that whenever the pub- 
lic measures he proposed should appear to be for the good of the 
people, no one would espouse and Ibrward them more zealously 
than myself; my past opposition having been founded on this, 
that the measures which had been urged were evidently intended 



^T. 51.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 249 

to serve the Proprietary interest, with great prejudice to that 
of the people. That I was much obliged to him (the governor) 
for his professioc of regard to me ; and that he might rely on 
everything in my power to render his administration as easy to 
him as possible, hoping, at the same time, that he had not brought 
with him the same unfortunate instructions his predecessors had 
been hampered with. 

On this he did not then explain himself; but, when he after- 
wards came to do business with the Assembly, they appeared 
again, the disputes were renewed, and I was as active as ever in 
the opposition, being the penman, first of the request to have a 
communication of the instructions, and then of the remarks upon 
them, which may be found in the votes of the times, and in the 
Historical Review I afterwards published. But between us, 
personally, no enmity arose; we were often together; he was a 
man of letters, had seen much of the world, and was entertain- 
ing and pleasing in conversation. He gave me information that 
my old friend Ralph was still alive ; that he was esteemed one 
of the best political writers in England ; had been employed in 
the dispute between Prince Frederick and the kini;, and had 
obtained a pension of three hundred pounds a year ; that his 
reputation was indeed small as a poet, Pope having damned his 
poetry in the Dunciad ; but his prose was thought as good as 
any man's. 

The Assembly finally finding the Proprietary obstinately per- 
sisted in shackling the deputies with instructions inconsistent not 
only with the privileges of the people, but with the service of 
the crown, resolved to petition the king against them, and ap- 
pointed me their agent to go over to England, to present and 
support the petition. The House had sent up a bill to the gov- 
ernor, granting a sum of sixty thousand pounds for the king's 
use (ten thousand pounds of which was subjected to the orders 
of the then general. Lord Loudoun), which the governor, in com- 
pliance with his instructions, absolutely refused to pass. 

I had agreed with Captain Morris, of the packet at New 
York, for my passage, and my stores were put on board, when 
Lord Loudoun arrived at Philadelphia, expressly, as he told me, 
to endeavor an accommodation between the governor and As- 
sembly, that his majesty's service might not be obstructed by 
their dissensions. Accordingly he desired the governor and 
myself to meet him, that he might hear what was to be said on 
both sides. We met and discussed the business. 

In behalf of the Assembly, I urged the various arguments, 
that may be found in the public papers of that time, which were 



250 franklin's select works. [175t 

of my writing, and are printed with the minutes of the Assem- 
bly ; and the governor pleaded his instructions, the bond he had 
given to observe them, and his ruin if he disobeyed ; yet seemed 
not unwilling to hazard himself, if Lord Loudoun would advise 
it. This his lordship did not choose to do, though I once thought 
I had nearly prevailed with him to do it ; but finally he rather 
chose to urge the compliance of the Assembly ; and he entreated 
me to use my endeavors with them for that purpose, declaring 
that he would spare none of the king's troops for the defence of 
our frontiers, and that, if we did not continue to provide for 
that defence ourselves, they must remain exposed to the enemy. 

I acquainted the House with what had passed, and, presenting 
them with a set of resolutions I had drawn up, declaring our 
rights, that we did not relinquish our claim to those rights, but 
only suspended the exercise of them on this occasion through 
force, against which we protested, they at length agreed to drop 
that bill, and frame another conformable to the Proprietary 
instructions. This of course the governor passed, and I was 
then at liberty to proceed on my voyage. But in the mean time 
the packet had sailed with my sea-stores, which was some loss 
to me, and my only recompense was his lordship's thanks for 
my service ; all the credit of obtaining the accommodation falling 
to his share. 

He set out for New York before me ; and, as the time for 
despatching the packet-boats was at his disposition, and there 
were two then remaining there, one of which, he said, was to sail 
very soon, I requested to know the precise time, that I might not 
miss her by any delay of mine. The answer was : " I have given 
out that she is to sail on Saturday next ; but I may let you 
know, entre nous, that if you are there by Monday morning you 
will be in time, but do not delay longer." By some accidental 
hindrance at a ferry, it was Monday noon before I arrived, and 
I was much afraid she might have sailed, as the wind was fair ; 
but I was soon made easy by the information that she was still 
in the harbor, and would not move till the next day. 

One would imagine that I was now on the very point of 
departing for Europe. I thought so ; but I was not then so 
well acquainted with his lordship's character, of which indecir:o?i 
was one of the strongest features. I shall give some instances. 
It was about the beginning of April that I came to New York, 
and I think it was near the end of June before we sailed. There 
were then two of the packet-boats, which had been long in read- 
iness, but were detained for the general's letters, which were 
always to be ready to-mo7'7'ow. Another packet arrived ; she too 



MT.i'^ HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 251 

was detained; and before we sailed, a fourth was expected. 
Ours was the first to be despatched, as having been there longest. 
Passengers were engaged for all, and some extremely impatient 
to be gone, and the merchants uneasy about their letters, and for 
the orders they had given for insurance (it being war-time), and 
for autumnal goods ; but their anxiety availed nothing ; his 
lordship's letters were not ready ; and yet whoever waited on 
him found him always at his desk, pen in hand, and concluded 
he must needs write abundantly. 

Going myself one morning to pay my respects, I found in his 
antechamber one Innis, a messenger of Philadelphia, who had 
come thence express with a packet from Governor Denny, for 
the general. He delivered to me some letters from my friends 
there, which occasioned my inquiring when he was to return, 
and where he lodged, that I might send some letters by him. 
He told me he was ordered to call to-morrow at nine for the 
general's answer to the governor, and should set off immediately. 
I put my letters into his hands the same day. A fortnight after, 
I met him again in the same place. " So, you are soon returned, 
Innis ? " " Heturned ! no, I am not gone yet." " How so ? " 
" I have called here this and every morning, these two weeks 
past, for his lordship's letters, and they are not yet ready." '* Is 
it possible, when he is so great a writer ; for I see him constantly 
at his escritoire?" "Yes," said Innis, "but he is like St. 
George on the signs, always on horseback, and never rides on.^'' 
This observation of the messenger was, it seems, well founded ; 
for, when in England, I understood that Mr. Pitt, afterwards 
Lord Chatham, gave it as one reason for removing this general, 
and sending Generals Amherst and Wolfe, that the minister 
never Jieard from him, and could not hnovj ivhat he ivas doing. 

In this daily expectation of sailing, and all the three packets 
going down to Sandy Hook, to join the fleet there, the passen- 
gers thought it best to be on board, lest by a sudden order the 
ships should sail and they be left behind. There, if I remember, 
we were about six weeks, consuming our sea-stores, and obliged 
to procure more. At length the fleet sailed, the general and 
all his army on board, bound to Louisburg, with intent to Vtesiege 
and take that fortress ; and all the packet-boats in company were 
ordered to attend the general's ship ready to receive his des- 
patches when they should be ready. AVe were out five days 
before we got a letter with leave to part ; and then our ship 
quitted the fleet and steered for England. The other two packets 
he still detained, carried them with him to Halifax, where he 
stayed some time to exercise the men in sham attacks upon sham 



252 franklin's select wouks. [1757. 

forts, then altered his mind as to besieging Lonisburg, and 
returned to New York, with all his troops, together with the two 
packets above mentioned, and all their passengers ! During his 
absence the French and savages had taken Fort George, on the 
frontier of that province, and the Indians had massacred many 
of the garrison after capitulation. 

I saw afterwards, in London, Captain Bound, who commanded 
one of those packets. He told me that, when he had been 
detained a month, he acquainted his lordship that his ship was 
grown foul to a degree that must necessarily hinder her fast sail- 
ing, — a point of consequence for a packet-boat,— and requested an 
allowance of time to have her down and clean her bottom. His 
lordship asked how long time that would require. He answered, 
three days. The general replied, " If you can do it in one day 
I give leave, otherwise not; for you must certainly sail the day 
after to-morrow." So he never obtained leave, though detained 
afterwards from day to day during full three months. 

I saw also in London one of Bonell's passengers, who was so 
enraged against his lordship for deceiving and detaining him so 
long in New York, and then carrying him to Halifax and back 
again, that he swore he would sue him for damages. Whether 
he did or not, I never heard; but, as he represented it, the injury 
to his affairs was very considerable. 

On the whole, I wondered much how such a man came to be 
intrusted with so important a business as the conduct of a great 
army ; but, having since seen more of the great world, and the 
means of obtaining and motives for giving places and employ- 
ments, my wonder is diminished. General Shirley, on whom the 
command of the army devolved upon the death of Braddock, 
would, in my opinion, if continued in place, have made a much 
better campaign than that of Loudoun, in 1756, which was friv- 
olous, expensive, and disgraceful to our nation beyond conception. 
For, though Shirley was not bred a soldier, he was sensible and 
sagacious in himself, and attentive to good advice from others, 
capable of forming judicious plans, and quick and active in 
carrying them into execution. Loudoun, instead of defending 
the colonies with his great army, left them totally exposed, while 
he paraded idly at Halifax, by which means Fort George was 
lost ; besides, he deranged all our mercantile operations, and 
distressed our trade by a long embargo on the exportation of 
provisions, on pretence of keeping supplies from being obtained 
by the enemy, but in reality for beating down their price in favor 
of the contractors, in whose profits, it was said, perhaps from 
suspicion only, he had a share ; and, when at length the embargo 



-^T. 51.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 253 

was taken off, neglecting to send notice of it to Charleston, Tvliere 
the Carolina fleet was detained near three months ; and whereby 
their bottoms were so much damaged by the worm, that a great 
part of them foundered in their passage home, 

Shirley was, I believe, sincerely glad of being relieved from 
so burdensome a charge as the conduct of an army must be to a 
man unacquainted with military business. I was at the enter- 
tainment given by the city of New York to Lord Loudoun, on 
his taking upon him the command. Shirley, though thereby 
superseded, was present also. There was a great company of 
officers, citizens and strangers, and, some chairs having been 
borrowed in the neighborhood, there was one among them very 
low, which fell to the lot of Mr. Shirley. I sat by him, and per- 
ceiving it, I said, "They have given j^ou a very low seat." " No 
matter, Mr. Franklin," said he ; "I find a low seat the easiest." 

While I was, as before mentioned, detained at New York, I 
received all the accounts of the provisions, &c., that I had fur- 
nished to Braddock, some of which accounts could not sooner be 
obtained from the different persons I had employed to assist in 
the business. I presented them to Lord Loudoun, desiring to 
be paid the balance. He caused them to be examined by the 
proper officer, who, after comparing every article with its voucher, 
certified them to be right ; and his lordship promised to give me 
an order on the paymaster for the balance due to me. This was, 
however, put off from time to time ; and, though I called often 
for it by appointment, I did not get it. At length, just before my 
departure, he told me he had, on better consideration, concluded 
not to mix his accounts with those of his predecessors. " And 
you," said he, " when in England, have only to exhibit your 
accounts to the treasury, and j^ou will be paid immediately." 

I mentioned, but without effect, a great and unexpected 
expense I had been put to by being detained so long at New 
York, as a reason for my desiring to be presently paid ; and, on 
my observing that it was not right I should be put to any further 
trouble or delay in obtaining the money I had advanced, as I 
charged no commission for my service, " 0," said he, " you 
must not think of persuading us that you are no gainer ; we 
understand better those matters, and know that every one con- 
cerned in supplying the army finds means in the doing it to fill 
his own pockets." I assured him that was not m}^ case, and 
that I had not pocketed a farthing ; but he appeared clearly not 
to believe me ; and indeed I afterwards learned that immense 
fortunes are often made in such employments. As to my balance, 
I am not paid it to this day, of which more hereafter. 
22 



254 franklin's select works. [1757. 

Our captain of the packet boasted much, before we sailed, of 
the swiftness of his ship ; unfortunately, when we came to sea, 
she proved the dullest of ninety-six sail, to his no small mortifi- 
cation. After many conjectures respecting the cause, when we 
were near another ship almost as dull as ours, which, however, 
gained upon us, the captain ordered all hands to come aft and 
stand as near the ensign staff as possible. We were, passengers 
included, about forty persons. While w^e stood there, the ship 
mended her pace, and soon left her neighbor far behind, which 
proved clearly what our captain suspected, that she was loaded 
too much by the head. The casks of water, it seems, had been 
all placed forward ; these he therefore ordered to be moved 
further aft, on which the ship recovered her character, and proved 
the best sailer in the fleet. 

The captain said she had once gone at the rate of thirteen 
knots, which is accounted thirteen miles per hour. We had on 
board, as a passenger, Captain Archibald Kennedy, of the Royal 
Navy, who contended that it was impossible, and that no ship 
ever sailed so fast, and that there must have been some error in 
the division of the log-line, or some mistake in heaving the log. 
A wager ensued between the two captains, to be decided when 
there should be sufficient wind. Kennedy therefore examined 
the log-line, and, being satisfied with it, he determined to throw 
the log himself. Some days after, when the wind was very fair 
and fresh, and the captain of the packet, Lutwidge, said he 
believed she then went at the rate of thirteen knots, Kennedy 
made the experiment, and owned his wager lost. 

The foregoing fact I give for the sake of the following obser- 
vation. It has been remarked as an imperfection in the art of 
ship-building, that it can never be known till she is tried whether 
a new ship will or will not be a good sailer; for that the model 
of a good sailing ship had been exactly followed in a new one, 
which has been proved, on the contrary, remarkably dull. I ap- 
prehend that this may partly be occasioned by the different opin- 
ions of seamen respecting the modes of loading, rigging and 
sailing, of a ship. Each has his method; and the same vessel; 
laden by the method and orders of one captain, shall sail worse 
than when by the orders of another. Besides, it scarce ever 
happens that a ship is formed, fitted for the sea, and sailed, by 
the same person. One man builds the hull, another rigs her, a 
third loads and sails her. No one of these has the advantage 
of knowing all the ideas and experience of the others, and 
therefore cannot draw just conclusions from a combination of 
the whole. 



^T. 51.] HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 25t> 

Even in the simple operation of sailing when at sea, I hava 
often observed different judgments in the officers who com- 
manded the successive watches, the wind being the same. One 
would have the sails trimmed sharper or flatter than another ; so 
that they seemed to have no certain rule to govern bj. Yet I 
think a set of experiments might be instituted, — first, to deter- 
mine the most proper form of the hull for swift sailing ; next, 
the best dimensions and most proper place for the masts ; then, 
the form and quantity of sails, and their position, as the winds 
may be ; and lastly, the disposition of the lading. This is an 
age of experiments, and I think a set accurately made and com- 
bined would be of great use. 

We were several times chased in our passage, but outsailed 
everything, and in thirty days had soundings. We had a good 
observation, and the captain judged himself so near our port, 
Falmouth, that, if we made a good run in the night, we might 
be off the mouth of that harbor in the morning ; and by running in 
the night might escape the notice of the enemy's privateers, who 
often cruised near the entrance of the channel. Accordingly 
all the sail was set that we could possibly carry, and, the wind 
being very fresh and fair, we stood right before it, and made 
great way. The captain, after his observation, shaped his course, 
as he thought, so as to pass wide of the Scilly Eocks ; but it 
seems there is sometimes a strong current setting up St. George's 
Channel, which formerly caused the loss of Sir Cloudesley 
Shovel's squadron, in 1707. This was probably also the cause 
of what happened to us. 

We had a watchman placed in the bow, to whom they often 
called, " Look icell out before there ; " and he as often answered, 
"^?/, (22/;" but perhaps had his eyes shut, and was half asleep, 
at the time ; they sometimes answering, as is said, mechanically ; 
for he did not see a light just before us, which had been hid by 
the studding-sails from the man at the helm, and from the rest 
of the watch, but by an accidental yaw of the ship was discov- 
ered, and occasioned a great alarm, we being very near it; 
the light appearing to me as large as a cart-wheel. It was 
midnight, and our captain fast asleep ; but Captain Kennedy, 
jumping upon deck, and seeing the danger, ordered the ship to 
wear round, all sails standing ; an operation dangerous to the 
masts, but it carried us clear, and we avoided shipwreck, for we 
were running fast on the rocks on which the li^-ht was erected. 
This deliverance impressed me strongl}^ with the utility of light- 
houses, and made me resolve to encourage the building some of 
them in America, if I should live to return thither. 



256 franklin's select works. [175V 

In tlie morning it was found, by the soundings, that we were 
near our port, but a thick fog hid the land from our sight. 
About nine o'clock the fog began to rise, and seemed to be lifted 
up from the water like the curtain of a theatre, discovering un- 
derneath the town of Falmouth, the vessels in the harbor, and 
the fields that surround it. This was a pleasing spectacle to 
those who had been long without any other prospect than the 
uniform view of a vacant ocean ; and it gave us the more 
pleasure, as we were now free from the anxieties which had 
arisen.^ 

I set out immediately, with my son, for London, and we only 
stopped a little by the way to view Stonehenge on Salisbury 
Plain, and Lord Pembroke's house and gardens, with the very 
curious antiquities at Wilton. We arrived in London the 27th 
of July, 1757.t 

* In a letter from Franklin to his wife, dated at Falmouth, the 17th of 
July, 1757, after giving her a similar account of his voyage, escape and 
landing, he adds : "The bell ringing for church, we went thither immedi- 
ately, and, with hearts full of gratitude, returned sincere thanks to God for 
the mercies we had received. Were I a Roman Catholic, perhaps I should 
on this occasion vow to build a chapel to some saint ; but, as I am not, if I 
were to vow at all, it should be to build a lighthfjuae." 

t The Autobiography of Franklin terminates here. He had intended 
resuming it, but was prevented either by the pressure of public business or 
physical iuiirmities. 



POLITICAL PAPERS. 



INTERVIEVYS WITH LORD CHATHAM.* 

When I came to England in 1757, you may remember 1 
made several attempts to be introduced to Lord Chatham (at 
that time j&rst minister), on account of my Pennsylvania business, 
but without success. He was then too great a man, or too much 
occupied in affairs of greater moment. I was therefore obliged 
to content myself with a kind of non-apparent and unacknowl- 
edged communication, through Mr. Potter and Mr. Wood, his 
secretaries, who seemed to cultivate an acquaintance with me 
by their civilities, and drew from me what information I could 
give relative to the American war, with my sentiments occasion- 
ally on measures that were proposed or advised by others, which 
gave me the opportunity of recommending and enforcing the 
utility of conquering Canada. I afterwards considered Mr. 
Pitt as an inaccessible ; I admired him at a distance, and made 
no more attempts for a nearer acquaintance. I had only once 
or twice the satisfaction of hearing, through Lord Shelburne, and 
I think Lord Stanhope, that he did me the honor of mentioning 
me sometimes as a person of respectable character. 

But, towards the end of August last, returning from Bright- 
helmstone, I called to visit my friend, Mr. Sargent, at his seat, 
Halsted, in Kent, agreeable to a former engagement. He let 
me know that he had promised to conduct me to Lord Stanhope's, 
at Chevening, who expected I would call on him when I came 

* On his passage from England in March 1775, in a letter to his son, 
Franklin committed to paper a statement of his " efforts to effect a recon- 
eiliation and prevent a breach between Great Britain and her Colonies." 
In the introductory memoir we have given an abstract of that portion of 
this statement relating to the interviews with Lord Howe, Mr. Barclay and 
others. The passages relating to Lord Chatham possess superior interest, 
and we have here detached them from the context. 

2:i^ 



258 FRANKLIN'S SELECT WORKS. 

into that neigliborhoocl. We accordingly waited on Lord Stan- 
hope that evening, who told me that Lord Chatham desired to 
see me, and that Mr. Sargent's house, where I was to lodge, 
being in the way, he would call for me there the next morning, 
and carry me to Hayes. This was done accordingly. 

That truly great man received me with abundance of civility, 
inquired particularly into the situation of affairs in America, 
spoke feelingly of the severity of the late laws against Mas- 
sachusetts, gave me some account of his speech in opposing 
them, and expressed great regard and esteem for the people of 
that country, who he hoped would continue firm and united in 
defending, by all j)eaceable and legal means, their constitutional 
rights. I assured him that I made no doubt they would do so ; 
which he said he was pleased to hear from me, as he was sensi- 
ble I must be well acquainted with them. # # # 

In fine, he expressed much satisfaction in my having called 
upon him, and particularly in the assurances I had given him 
that America did not aim at independence; adding that he 
should be glad to see me again as often as might be. I said I 
should not fiiil to avail myself of the permission he was pleased 
to give me, of waiting upon his lordship occasionally, being very 
sensible of the honor, and of the great advantages and im- 
provement I should reap from his instructive conversation ; 
which indeed was not a mere compliment. # # # 

I had promised Lord Chatham to communicate to him the 
first important news I should receive from America. I there- 
fore sent him the proceedings of the Congress as soon as I received 
them ; but a whole week passed, after I received the petition, before 
I could, as I wished to do, wait upon him with it, in order to 
obtain his sentiments on the whole ; for my time was taken up in 
meetings with the other agents to consult about presenting the 
petition, in waiting three different days with them on Lord 
Dartmouth, in consulting upon and writing letters to the speak- 
ers of Assemblies, and other business, which did not allow me a 
day to go to Hayes. 

At last, on Monday the 26th, I got out, and was there about 
one o'clock ; he received me with an affectionate kind of respect 
that from so great a man was extremely engaging; but the opin- 
ion he expressed of the Congress was still more so. They had 
acted, he said, with so much temper, moderation and wisdom, 
that he thought it the most honorable assembly of statesmen 
since those of the ancient Greeks and Romans in the most vir- 
tuous times : that there was not in their whole proceedings 
above one or two things he could have wished otherwise ; 



HIS POLITICAL PAPERS. 259 

perhaps but one, and that, was their assertion that the keeping 
up a standing sn-mj in the colonies in time of peace, without 
consent of their legislatures, was against law ; he doubted that 
was not well founded, and that the law alluded to did not extend 
to the colonies. Tlie rest he admired and honored ; he thought 
the petition decent, manly, and properly expressed ; he inquired 
much and particularly concerning the^ state of America, the 
probability of their perseverance, the difficulties they must meet 
with in adhering for any long time to their resolutions, the re- 
sources they might have to supply the deficiency of commerce ; 
to all which I gave him answers with which he seemed well sat- 
isfied. He expressed a great regard and warm affection for that 
country, with hearty wishes for their prosperity, and that gov- 
ernment here might soon come to see its mistakes and rectify 
them ; and intimated that possibly he might, if his health per- 
mitted, prepare something for its consideratiorf; when the Parlia- 
ment should meet after the holidays, on which he should wish 
to have previously my sentiments. 

I mentioned to him the very hazardous state I conceived we 
were in, by the continuance of the army in Boston ; that what- 
ever disposition there might be in the inhabitants to give no just 
cause of offence to the troops, or in the general to preserve order 
among them, an unpremeditated, unforeseen quarrel might happen 
between perhaps a drunken porter and a soldier, that might 
bring on a riot, tumult and bloodshed, and its consequences pro- 
duce a breach impossible to be healed ; that the army could not 
possibly answer any good purpose t/iere, and might be infinitely 
mischievous ; that no accommodation could be properly proposed 
and entered into by the Americans while the bayonet was at 
their breasts; that, to have any agreement binding, all force 
should be withdrawn. His lordship seemed to think these senti- 
ments had something in them that was reasonable. 

From Hayes I went to Halsted, Mr. Sargent's place, to dine, 
intending thence a visit to Lord Stanhope at Chevening ; but, 
hearing there that his lordship and the family were in town, I 
staid in Halsted all night, and the next morning went to Chisel- 
hurst to call upon Lord Camden, it being in my way to town. I 
met his lordship and family in two carriages, just without his 
gate, going on a visit of congratulation to Lord Chatham and 
his lady, on the late marriage of their daughter to Lord Mahon, 
son of Lord Stanhope. They were to be back to dinner ; so I 
agreed to go in, stay dinner, and spend the evening there, and 
not to return to town till next morning. We had that afternoon 
and evening a great deal of conversation on American aflairs, 



260 franklin's select works. 

concerning wliicli he was very inquisitive, and I gave him the 
best information in my power. I was charmed with his generous 
and noble sentiments ; and had the great pleasure of hearing 
his full approbation of the proceedings of the Congress, the 
petition, &c. &c., of which, at his request, I afterwards sent him 
a copy. He seemed anxious that the Americans should continue 
to act with the same temper, coolness and wisdom, with which 
they had hitherto proceeded in most of their public assemlDlies, 
in which case he did not doubt they would succeed in establish- 
ing their rights, and obtain a solid and durable agreement with 
the mother country ; of the necessity and great importance of 
which agreement, he seemed to have the strongest impres- 
sions. W -TS- -^ ^ 

On the 19th of January, I received a card from Lord Stan- 
hope, acquainting me that Lord Chatham, having a motion to 
make on the morrow in the House of Lords concerning America, 
greatly desired that I might be in the House, into which Lord 
Stanhope would endeavor to procure me admittance. At this 
time it was a rule of the House that no person could introduce 
more than one friend. The next morning, his lordship let me 
know, by another card, that if I attended at two o'clock in the 
lobby. Lord Chatham would be there about that time, and would 
himself introduce me. I attended, and met him there accord- 
ingly. On my mentioning to him what Lord Stanhope had writ- 
ten to me, he said, " Certainly ; and I shall do it with the more 
pleasure, as I am sure your being present at this day's debate 
will be of more service to America than mine ; " and so, taking 
me by the arm, was leading me along the passage to the door 
that enters near the throne, when one of the door-keepers fol- 
lowed, and acquainted him that by the order none were to be 
carried in at that door, but the eldest sons or brothers of peers ; 
on which he limped back with me to the door near the bar, where 
were standing a number of gentlemen waiting for the peers who 
were to introduce them, and some peers waiting for friends they 
expected to introduce ; among whom he delivered me to the 
door-keepers, saying aloud, " This is Dr. Franklin, whom I would 
have admitted into the House ;" when they readily opened the 
door for me accordingly. As it had not been publicly known 
that there was any communication between his lordship and me, 
this I found occasioned some speculation. His appearance in 
the house, I observed, caused a kind of bustle among the officers, 
who vfere hurried in sending messengers for members, — I suppose 
those in connection with the ministry, something of importance 
being expected when that great man appears ; it being but seldom 



HIS POLITICAL PAPERS. 261 

that his infirmities permit his attcnflance. I had great satisfac- 
tion in hearing his motion and the debate upon it, which I shall 
not attempt to give here an account of, as you may find a better 
in the papers of the time. It was his motion for withdrawing 
the troops from Boston, as the first step towards an accommodation. 
The day following, I received a note from Lord Stanhope, ex- 
jiressing that " at the desire of Lord Chatham was sent me 
enclosed the motion he made in the House of Lords, that I might 
be possessed of it in the most authentic manner, by the com- 
munication of the individual paper which was read to the House 
by the mover himself." I sent copies of this motion to America, 
and was the more pleased with it, as I conceived it had partly 
taken its rise from a hint I had given his lordship in a former 
conversation. ^ ^ ^ ^ 

I was quite charmed with Lord Chatham's speech in support 
of his motion. He impressed me with the highest idea of him 
as a great and most able statesman. Lord Camden, another 
wonderfully good speaker and close reasoner, joined him in the 
same argument, as did several other lords, who spoke excellently 
well : but all availed no more than the whistlino; of the winds. 
This motion was rejected. Sixteen Scotch peers, and twenty- 
four bishops, with all the lords in possession or expectation of 
places, when they vote together unanimously, as they generally 
do for ministerial measures, make a dead majority that renders 
all debatinor ridiculous in itself, since it can answer no end. 
Full of the high esteem I had imbibed for Lord Chatham, I wrote 
back to Lord Stanhope the following note, namely : 

" Dr. Franklin presents his best respects to Lord Stanhope, 
with many thanks to his lordship and Lord Chatham, for the com- 
munication of so authentic a copy of the motion. Dr. Franklin 
is filled with admiration of that truly great man. He has seen, 
in the course of his life, sometimes eloquence without wisdom, 
and often wisdom without eloquence ; in the present instance he 
sees both united, and both, as he thinks, in the highest degree 
possible. 

" Craven-street, Jan. 23, 1775." 

As, in the course of the debate, some lords in the administra- 
tion had observed that it was common and easy to censure their 
measures, but those who did so proposed nothing better, Lord 
Chatham mentioned that he should not be one of those idle 
censurers; that he had thought long and closely upon the subject, 
and proposed soon to lay before their lordships the result of his 
meditation, in a plan for healing our difierences, and restoring 



*M'2 FRANKLIN^S SELECT WORKS. 

peace to the empire, to which his present notion was prepara- 
tory. I much desired to know what his plan was, and intended 
waitino; on him to see if he would communicate it to me; but 
he went the next morning to Hayes, and I was so much taken 
up with daily business and company that I could not easily get 
out to him. 

A few days after, however. Lord Mahon called on me, and 
told me Lord Chatham was very desirous of seeing me ; when I 
promised to be with him the Friday following, several engage- 
ments preventing my going sooner. On Friday the 27th, I took 
a post-chaise about nine o'clock, and got to Hayes about eleven, 
but my attention being engaged in reading a new pamphlet, the 
post-boy drove me a mile or two beyond the gate. His lordship, 
beinor out an airins; in his chariot, had met me before I 
reached Hayes, unobserved by me, turned and followed me, and, 
not finding me there, concluded, as he had seen me reading, 
that I had passed by mistake, and sent a servant after me. He 
expressed great pleasure at my coming, and acquainted me, in 
a long conversation, with the outlines of his plan, parts of which 
he read to me. He said he had communicated it only to Lord 
Camden, whose advice he much relied on, particularly in the 
law part ; and that he would, as soon as he could get it tran- 
scribed, put it into my hands for my opinion and advice, but 
should show it to no other person before he presented it to the 
House ; and he requested me to make no mention of it, other- 
wise parts might be misunderstood and blown up beforehand, 
and others perhaps adopted and produced by ministers as their 
own. I promised the closest secrecy, and kept my word ; not 
even mentioning to any one that I had seen him. I dined with 
him, his family only present, and returned to town in the even- 
ino". 

On the Sunday following, being the 29th, his lordship came 
to town, and called upon me in Craven-street. He brought with 
him his plan transcribed, in the form of an act of Parliament, 
which he put into my hands, requesting me to consider it care- 
fully, and communicate to him such remarks upon it as should 
occur to me. His reason for desiring to give me that trouble 
was, as he was pleased to say, that he knew no man so thoroughly 
acquainted with the subject, or so capable of giving advice upon 
it ; that he thought the errors of ministers in American affairs 
had been often owing to their not obtaining the best information ; 
that therefore, though he had considered the business thoroughly in 
all its parts, he was not so confident of his own judgment, but that 
he came to set it right by mine, as men set their watches by a 



HIS POLITICAL PAPERS. 268 

regulator. He had not determined when he should produce it in 
the House of Lords ; but in the course of our conversation, con- 
sidering the precarious situation of his health, and that if pre- 
senting it was delayed some intelligence might arrive which 
would make it seem less seasonable, or in all parts not so proper, — 
or the ministry might engage in ditferent measures, and then say, 
If you had produced your plan sooner, we might have attended 
to it, — he concluded to ofl'er it the Wednesday following ; and 
therefore wished to see me upon it the preceding Tuesday, when 
he would again call upon me, unless I could conveniently come 
to Hayes. 

I chose the latter, in respect to his lordship, and because there 
was less likelihood of interruptions ; and I promised to be with 
him early, that we might have more time. He staid with me 
near two hours, his equipage waiting at the door ; and being 
there while people were coming from church, it was much taken 
notice of and talked of, as at that time was every little circum- 
stance that men thought might possibly any way aifect American 
affairs. Such a visit from so great a man, on so important a 
business, flattered not a little my vanity ; and the honor of it 
gave me the more j)leasure, as it happened on the very day, 
twelve months, that the ministry had taken so much pains to 
disgrace me before the privy council. 

I applied myself immediately to the reading and considering 
the plan, of which, when it was afterwards published, I sent you 
a copy, and therefore need not insert it here. I put down upon 
paper, as I went along, some short memorandums for my future 
discourse* with him upon it. =^ =^ =^ ^ 

I w^ at Hajes early on Tuesday, agreeably to my promise, 
when we entered into consideration of the plan ; but, though I 
staid near four hours, his lordship, in the manner of, I think, all 
eloquent persons, was so full and diffuse in supporting every par- 
ticular I questioned, that there was not time to go through half 
m}^ memorandums ; he is not easily interrupted, and I had such 
pleasure in hearing him, that I found little inclination to inter- 
rupt him. Therefore, considering that neither of us had much ex- 
pectation that the plan would be adopted entirely as it stood ; 
that in the course of its consideration, if it should be received, 
proper alterations might be introduced ; that before it would be 
settled America should have opportunity to make her objections 
and propositions of amendment ; that, to have it received at all 
here, it must seem to comply a little with some of the prevailing 
prejudices of the legislature ; that if it was not so perfect as 
might be wished, it would at least serve as a basis for treaty, and 



264 franklin's select "works. 

in the mean time prevent mischiefs ; and that, as his lordship had 
determined to offer it the next day, there was not time to make 
changes and another fair copy, — I therefore ceased my querying; 
and, though afterwards many people were pleased to do me the 
honor of supposing I had a considerable share in composing it, I 
assure you that the addition of a single word only was made at 
my instance, namely, '■'constitutions,''^ after "charters;" for my 
filling up, at his request, a blank, with the titles of acts proper 
to be repealed, which I took from the proceedings of the Con- 
gress, was no more than might have been done by any copying 
clerk. 

On Wednesday, Lord Stanhope, at Lord Chatham's request, 
called upon me, and carried me down to the House of Lords, which 
was soon very full. Lord Chatham, in a most excellent speech, 
introduced, explained, and supported his plan. AVhen he sat 
down. Lord Dartmouth rose, and very properly said it contained 
matter of such weight and magnitude as to require much con- 
sideration, and he therefore hoped the noble earl did not expect 
their lordships to decide upon it by an immediate vote, but 
would be willing it should lie upon the table for consideration. 
Lord Chatham answered readily that he expected nothing more. 
But Lord Sandwich rose, and in a petulant, vehement speech, 
opposed its being received at all, and gave his opinion that it 
ought to be immediately rejected, with the contempt it deserved; 
that he could never believe it to be the production of any British 
peer ; that it appeared to him rather the work of some American , 
and, turning his face towards me, who was leaning on the bar, 
said he fancied he had in his eye the person who drew it up, one 
of the bitterest and most mischievous enemies .this eou^ry had 
ever known. 

This drew the eyes of many lords upon me ; but, as I had no 
inducement to take it to myself, I kept my countenance as im- 
movable as if my features had been made of wood. Then 
several other lords of the administration gave their sentiments 
also for rejecting it, of which opinion, also, was strongly the wise 
Lord Hillsborough; but the Dukes of Richmond and Manches- 
ter, Lord Shelburne, Lord Camden, Loi'd Temple, Lord Lyttle- 
ton and others, were for receiving it, some through approbation, 
and others for the character and dignity of the House, One 
lord mentioning, with applause, the candid proposal of one of 
the ministers, Lord Dartmouth, his lordship rose again, and said, 
that having since heard the opinions of so many lords against re- 
ceiving it to lie upon the table for consideration, he had altered 
his mind, could not accept the praise offered him, for a candor 



HIS POLITICAL PAPERS. 265 

of which ho was now ashamed, and should therefore give hig 
voice for rejecting the phm immediately. I am the more par- 
ticular in this, as it is a trait of that nobleman's character, who, 
from his office, is supposed to have so great a share in American 
affairs, but who has in reality no will or judgment of his own, 
being, with dispositions for the best measures, easily prevailed 
with to join in the worst. 

Lord Chatham, in his reply to Lord Sandwich, took notice of 
his illiberal insinuation, that the plan was not the person's who 
proposed it ; declared that it was entirely his own, a declaration 
he thought himself the more obliged to make, as many of their 
lordships appeared to have so mean an opinion of it ; for, if it 
was so weak or so bad a thing, it was proper in him to take care 
that no other person should unjustly share in the censure it 
deserved. That it had been heretofore reckoned his vice not to 
be apt to take advice ; but he made no scruple to declare that, if 
he were the first minister of this country, and had the care of 
settling this momentous business, he should not be ashamed of 
publicly calling to his assistance a person so perfectly acquainted 
with the whole of American affairs as the gentleman alluded to, 
and so injuriously reflected on ; one, he was pleased to say, whom 
all Europe held in high estimation for his knowledge and wisdom, 
and ranked with our Boyles and Newtons ; who was an honor, 
not to the English nation only, but to human nature ! I found 
it harder to stand this extravagant compliment than the preced- 
ing equally extravagant abuse ; but kept as well as I could an 
unconcerned countenance, as not conceiving it to relate to me. 

To hear so many of these hereditary legislators declaiming so 
vehemently against, not the adopting merely, but even the coU' 
sideration, of a proposal so important in its nature, offered by a 
person of so weighty a character, one of the first statesmen of 
the age, who had taken up this country when in the lowest de 
spondency, and conducted it to victory and glory through a war 
with two of the mightiest kingdoms in Europe ; to hear them cen- 
suring his plan, not only for their own misunderstandings of what 
was in it, but for their imaginations of what was not in it, which 
they would not give themselves an opj^ortunity of rectifying by a 
second reading ; to perceive the total ignorance of the subject in 
some, the prejudice and passion of others, and the wilful perver- 
sion of plain truth in several of the ministers; and, upon the 
whole, to see it so ignominiously rejected by so great a majority, 
and so hastily too, in breach of all decency and prudent regard 
to the character and dignity of their body, as a third part of the 
national legislature, gave me an exceeding mean opinion of their 
23 



266 franklin's select woiiks. 

abilities, and made their claim of sovereignty over three millions 
of virtuous, sensible people in America seem the greatest of 
absurdities, since they appeared to have scarce discretion enough 
to govern a herd of swine. Hereditary legislators I thought I. 
There would be more propriety, because less hazard of mischiiif, 
in having (as in some university of Germany) hereditary profess- 
ors of mathematics ! But this was a hasty reflection ; for the 
elected House of Commons is no better, nor ever will be while the 
electors receive money for their votes, and pay money wherewith 
ministers may bribe their representatives when chosen. 



A PRUSSIAN EDICT,* ASSUMING CLAIxMS OVER BRITAIN. 

Dantzic, Sept. 5, 1773. 
We have long wondered here at the supineness of the Eng- 
lish nation under the Prussian impositions upon its trade enter- 
ing our port. We did not, till lately, know the claims, ancient 
and modern, that hang over that nation, and thei-efore could not 
suspect that it might submit to those impositions from a sense of 
duty, or from principles of equity. The following edict, just 
made public, may, if serious, throw some light upon the mat- 
ter : 

" Frederick, by the grace of God, King of Pi-ussia, &c., to all 
present and to come ; [a tons presens et a veriir. — Original.] 
Health! — The peace now enjoyed throughout our dominions 
having afforded us leisure to apply ourselves to the regulation of 
commerce, the improvement of our finances, and at the same 
time the easing of our domestic subjects in their taxes : for these 
causes, and other good considerations us thereunto moving, we 
hereby make known, that, after having deliberated these affairs 
in our council, present our dear brothers, and other great officers 
of the state, members of the same ; we, of our certain knowledge, 
full power, and authority royal, have made and issued this pres- 
ent edict, namely. 

" Whereas it is well known to all the world that the first 
German settlements made in the island of Britain were by 

* See page 65. 



HIS POLITICAL PAPERS. 267 

colonies of people subjects to our renowned ducal ancestors, and 
drawn from their dominions, under the conduct of IIeuj;ist, 
liorsa, Hella, Uffa, Cerdicus, Ida, and others; and that the said 
colonies have flourished under the protection of our august house 
for ages past, have never been emancipated therefrom, and never- 
theless have hitherto yielded little profit to the same : and whereas 
we ourself have in the last war fought for and defended the said 
colonies against the power of France, and thereby enabled them 
to make conquests from the said power in America, for which 
we have not yet received adequate compensation : and whereas 
it is just and expedient that a revenue should be raised from the 
said colonies in Britain towards our indeimiification ; and that 
those who are descendants of our ancient subjects, and thence 
still owe us due obedience, should contribute to the replenishing 
of our royal coffers (as they must have done, had their ances- 
tors remained in the territories now to us appertaining). We 
do therefore hereby ordain and command, that, from and after 
the date of these presents, there shall be levied and paid to our 
officers of the customs, on all goods, wares and merchandises, 
and on all grain and other produce of the earth, exported from 
the said island of Britain, and on all goods of whatever kind 
imported into the same, a duty of four and a half per cent, ad 
valorem, for the use of us and our successors : And that the 
said duty may more effectually be collected, we do hereby ordain, 
that all ships or vessels bound from Grreat Britain to any other 
part of the world, or from any other part of the world to Grreat 
Britain, shall in their respective voyages touch at our port of 
Koningsberg, there to be unladen, searched, and charged with 
the said duties. 

" And whereas there hath been from time to time discovered 
in the said island of Grreat Britain, by our colonists there, many 
mines or beds of iron-^ione : and sundry subjects of our ancient 
dominion, skilful in converting the said stone into metal, have in 
time past transported themselves thither, carrying with them 
and communicating that art ; and the inhabitants of the said 
island, presuming that they had a natural right to make the best 
use they could of the natural productions of their country, for 
their own benefit, have not only built furnaces for smelting the 
said stone into iron, but have erected plating-forges, slitting- 
mills and steel-furnaces, for the more convenient manufacturing 
of the same, thereby endangering a diminution of the said manu- 
facture in our ancient dominion ; we do, therefore, hereby fur- 
ther ordain, that from and after the date hereof no mill nor 
Other engine for slitting or rolling of iron, nor any plating-forge 



268 franklin's select works. 

to work with a tilt-hammer, nor any furnace for making steel, 
bhall be erected or continued in the said island of Great Britain ; 
and the lord lieutenant of every county in the said island is 
hereby commanded, on information of any such erection within 
his county, to order, and by force to cause the same to be abated 
and destroyed, as he shall answer the neglect thereof to us at 
his peril. But we are nevertheless graciously pleased to permit 
the inhabitants of the said island to transport their iron into 
Prussia, there to be manufactured, and to them returned, they 
paying our Prussian subjects for the workmanship, with all the 
costs of commission, freight and risk, coming and returning; 
anything herein contained to the contrary notwithstanding. 

" We do not, however, think fit to extend this our indulgence 
to the article of wool ; but, meaning to encourage, not only the 
manufacturing of woollen cloth, but also the raising of wool, in 
our ancient dominions, and to prevent both, as much as may be, 
in our said island, we do hereby absolutely forbid the transporta- 
tion of wool from thence even to the mother-country, Prussia ; 
and that those islanders may be further and more effectually 
restrained in making any advantage of their own wool, in the 
way of manufacture, we command that none shall be carried out 
of one county into another ; nor shall any worsted, bay, or 
woollen yarn, cloth, says, bays, kerseys, serges, frizes, druggets, 
cloth-serges, shalloons, or any other drapery stuffs or woollen 
manufactures whatsoever, made up or mixed with wool in any 
of the said counties, be carried into any other county, or be 
water-borne even across the smallest river or creek, on penalty 
of forfeiture of the same, together with the boats, carriages, 
horses, &c., that shall be employed in removing them : — Never- 
theless, our loving subjects there are hereby permitted (if they 
think proper) to use all their wool as manure, for the improve- 
ment of their lands. 

" And whereas the art and mystery of making hats hath ar- 
rived at great perfection in Prussia, and the making of hats by 
our remoter subjects ought to be as much as possible restrained ; 
and forasmuch as the islanders before-mentioned, being in posses- 
sion of wool, beaver, and other furs, have presumptuously con- 
ceived they had a right to make some advantage thereof, by 
manufacturing the same into hats, to the prejudice of our do- 
mestic manufacture : we do, therefore, hereby strictly command 
and ordain, that no hats or felts whatsoever, dyed or undyed, 
finished or unfinished, shall be loaden or put into or upon any 
vessel, cart, carriage or horse, to be transported or conveyed out 
of one county in the said island into another county, or to any 



HIS POLITICAL PAPERS. 269 

l»ther place whatsoever, by any person or persons whatsoever, on 
pain of forfeiting the same, with a penalty of five hundred pounds 
sterling for every offence : Nor shall any hat-maker in any of the 
said counties employ more than two apprentices, on penalty of five 
pounds sterling per month ; we intending hereby, that such hat- 
makers, being so restrained, both in the production and sale of their 
commodity, may find no advantage in continuing their business : 
But, lest the said islanders should suffer inconveniency by the want 
of hats, we are further graciously pleased to j)ermit them to send 
their beaver furs to Prussia, and we also permit hats made 
thereof to be exported from Prussia to Britain ; the people thus 
favored to pay all costs and charges of manufacturing, interest, 
commission to our merchants, insurance and freight going and 
returning, as in the case of iron. 

" And lastly, being willing further to favor our said colonies 
in Britain, we do hereby also ordain and command, that all the 
thieves, highway and street robbers, house-breakers, forgerers, 
murderers, s — d — tes, and villains of every denomination, who 
have forfeited their lives to the law in Prussia, but whom we, 
in our great clemency, do not think fit here to hang, shall be 
emptied out of our jails into the said island of Great Britain 
for the better peopling of that country. 

" We flatter ourselves that these our royal regulations and 
commands will be thought just and reasonable by our much 
favored colonists in England; the said regulations being copied 
from their statutes of 10 & 11 Will. III. c. 10 ; 5 Geo. II. c. 
22; 23 Geo. II. c. 29 ; 4 Geo. I. c. 11, and from other equita- 
ble laws made by their Parliaments, or from instructions given 
by their princes, or from resolutions of both Houses, entered 
into for the good government of their oivii colonies in Ireland 
and America. 

" And all persons in the said island are hereby cautioned not 
to oppose in any wise the execution of this our edict, or any 
part thereof, such opposition being high treason ; of which all 
who are suspected shall be transported in fetters from Britain to 
Prussia, there to be tried and executed according to the Prussian 
aw. 

" Such is our pleasure. 

" Given at Potsdam, this twenty-fifth day of the month of 
August, one thousand seven hundred and seventy -three, and 
in the thirty-third year of our reign. 

" By the king, in his council. 

" K-ECHTiALESSIG, Sec." 
23^ 



270 franklin's select avorks. 

Some take this edict to be merely one of the king's jeux 
d'esprit : others suppose it serious, and that he means a quarrel 
with England : but all here think the assertion it concludes with, 
" that these regulations are copied from the acts of the English 
Parliament respecting their colonies," a very injurious one ; it 
being impossible to believe that a people divStinguishcd for their 
love of liberty, — a nation so wise, so liberal in its sentiments, so 
just and equitable towards its neighbors, — should, from mean 
and injudicious views of petty immediate profit, treat its own chil- 
dren in a manner so arbitrary and tyrannical ! 



RULES FOR REDUCING A GREAT EMPIRE TO A SMALL 

ONE ; PRESENTED TO A LATE MINISTER AYIIEN 

HE ENTERED UPON HIS ADMINISTRATION.* 

An ancient sage valued himself upon this, — that though he 
could not fiddle, he knew how to make a great city of a little one. 
The science that I, a modern simpleton, am about to communi- 
cate, is the very reverse. 

I address myself to all ministers who have the management of 
extensive dominions, which, from their very greatness, are become 
troublesome to govern — because the multiplicity of their afiairs 
leaves no time for fiddling. 

I. In the first place, gentlemen, you are to consider that a 
great empire, like a great cake, is most easily diminished at the 
edges. Turn your attention, therefore, first to your remotest 
provinces ; that, as you get rid of them, the next may follow in 
order. 

II. That the possibility of this separation may always exist, 
take special care the provinces are never incorporated ivith the 
mother-country ; that they do not enjoy the same common rights, 
the same privileges in commerce, and that they are governed by 
severer laws, all of your enacting, without allowing them any 
share in the choice of the legislators. By carefully making and 
preserving such distinctions, you will (to keep to my simile of 
the cake) act like a wise gingerbread-baker, who, to facilitate 
a division, cuts his dough half through in those places where, 
when baked, he would have it broken to pieces. 

* See page 55. 



HIS POLITICAL PAPERS. 271 

III. Those remote provinces have perhaps been acquired, pur- 
chased or conquered, at the sole expense of the settlers or their 
mcestors, without the aid of the mother-country. If this should 
lappcn to increase her strength, by their growing numbers, ready 
fo join in her wars ; her commerce, by their growing demand for 
^ler nmnufactures ; or her naval power, by greater employment 
for her ships and seamen, — they may probably suppose some merit 
in this, and that it entitles them to some favor. You are there- 
fore to forget it all, or resent it, as if they had done you injury. 
If they happen to be zealous whigs, friends of liberty, nurtured 
in revolution principles, remember all that to their prejudice, and 
contrive to punish it ; for such principles, after a revolution is 
thoroughly established, are of no more use ; they are even odious 
and abominable. 

IV. However peaceably your colonies have submitted to your 
government, shown their affection to your interests, and patiently 
borne their grievances, you are to suppose them always inclined 
to revolt, and treat them accordingly. Quarter troops among 
them, who by their insolence may provoke the rising of mobs, 
and by their bullets and bayonets suppress them. By this means, 
like the husband who uses his wife ill from suspicion, you may in 
time convert your suspicions into realities. 

V. Remote provinces must have governors and judges to rep- 
resent the royal person, and execute everywhere the delegated 
parts of his office and authority. You, ministers, know that 
much of the strength of government depends on the opinion of 
the people, and much of that opinion on the choice of rulers placed 
immediately over them. If you send them wise and good men 
for governors, who study the interest of the colonists, and advance 
their prosperity, they will think their king wise and good, and that 
he wishes the welfare of his subjects. If you send them learned 
and upright men forjudges, they will think him a lover of justice. 
This may attach your provinces more to his government. You 
are therefore to be careful who you recommend for those offices. 
If you can lind prodigals who have ruined their fortunes, broken 
gamesters, or stock-jobbers, these may do well as governors; for 
they will probably be rapacious, and provoke the people by their 
extortions. Wrangling proctors and pettifogging lawyers too 
are not amiss, for they will be forever disputing and quarrelling 
with their little Parliaments. If withal they should be ignorant, 
wrong-headed and insolent, so much the better. Attorneys, 
clerks and Newgate solicitors, will do for chief-justices, especially 
if they hold their places during your pleasure : — and all will 



272 franklin's select works. 

contribute to impress those ideas of your government that are 
proper for a people you would wish to renounce it. 

yi. To confirm these impressions, and strike them deeper, 
whenever the injured come to the capital with complaints of mal- 
administration, oppression or injustice, punish such suitors with 
long delay, enormous expense, and a final judgment in favor of 
the oppressor. This will have an admirable effect every way. 
The trouble of future complaints will be prevented, and governors 
and judges will be encouraged to further acts of oppression and 
injustice, and thence the people may become more disaffected, 
and at length desperate. 

yil. When such governors have crammed their coffers, and 
made themselves so odious to the people that they can no longer 
remain among them with safety to their persons, recall and reward 
them with pensions. You may make them baronets too, if that 
respectable order should not think fit to resent it. All will con- 
tribute to encourage new governors in the same practice, and make 
the supreme government detestable. 

VIII. If, when you are engaged in war, your colonies should 
vie in liberal aids of men and money against the common enemy, 
upon your simple requisition, and give far beyond their abilities, 
reflect that a penny taken from them by your power is more 
honorable to you than a pound presented by their benevolence ; 
despise therefore their voluntary grants^ and resolve to harass 
them with novel taxes. They will probably complain to your 
Parliament, that they are taxed by a body in which they have 
no representative, and that this is contrary to common right. 
They will petition for redress. Let the Parliament flout their 
claims, reject their petitions, refuse even to suffer the reading 
of them, and treat the petitioners with the utmost contempt. 
Nothing can have a better effect in producing the alienation pro- 
posed ; for though many can forgive injuries, none ever forgave 
contempt. 

IX. In laying these taxes, never regard the heavy burdens 
those remote people already undergo, in defending their own fron- 
tiers, supporting their own provincial government, making new 
roads, building bridges, churches, and other public edifices, which 
in old countries have been done to your hands, by your ancestors, 
but which occasion constant calls and demands on the purses of 
a new people. Forget the restraint j^ou lay on their trade for 
your own benefit, and the advantage a monoi^oly of this trade gives 
your exacting merchants. Think nothing of the wealth those 
merchants and your manufacturers acquire by the colony com- 
merce, their increased ability thereby to pay taxes at home, 



HIS POLITICAL PAPERS. 273 

their accumulating in the pri<?e of their commodities most of 
those taxes, and so levying tnem from their consuming customers : 
all this, and the employment and support of thousands of your 
poor by the colonists, you are entirely to forget. But remember 
to make your arbitrary tax more grievous to your provinces, by 
public declarations importing that your power of taxing them 
has no limits, so that when you take from them without their 
consent a shilling in the pound, you have a clear right to the other 
nineteen. This will probably weaken every idea of security in 
their property, and convince them that under such a government 
they have nothing they can call their own ; which can scarce fail 
of producing the happiest consequences ! 

X. Possibly, indeed, some of them might still comfort them- 
selves, and say, " Though we have no property, we have yet some- 
thing left that is valuable ; we have constitutional liherty, both of 
person and of coiiscieyice. This king, these lords, and these com- 
mons, who it seems are too remote from us to know us and feel 
for us, cannot take from us our habeas corpus right, or our right 
of trial b}' a jury of our neighbors : they cannot deprive us of the 
exercise of our religion, alter our ecclesiastical constitution, and 
compel us to be papists if they please, or Mahometans." To an- 
nihilate this comfort, begin by laws to perplex their commerce 
with infinite regulations, impossible to be remembered and ob- 
served : ordain seizures of their property for every failure, take 
away the trial of such property by jury, and give it to arbitrary 
judges of your own appointing, and of the lowest characters in 
the country, whose salaries and emoluments are to arise out of 
the duties or condemnations, and whose appointments are during 
pleasure. Then let there be a formal declaration of both Houses 
that opposition to your edicts is treason, and that persons sus- 
pected of treason in the provinces may, according to some obsolete 
law, be seized and sent to the metropolis of the empire for trial; 
and pass an act, that those there charged with certain other 
offences shall be sent away in chains from their friends and 
c/^antry, to be tried in the same manner for felony. Then erect 
a ne\^ court of inquisition among them, accompanied by an armed 
force, with instructions to transport all such suspected persons, to 
be ruined by the expense if they bring over evidences to prove 
their innocence, or be found guilty and hanged if they cannot 
afford it. And, lest the people should think you cannot possibly 
go any further, pass another solemn declaratory act, " that kings, 
lords and commons, had, have, and of right ought to have, full 
power and authority to make statutes of sufficient force and 
validity to bind the unrepresented provinces in all cases whatso- 



274 fkanklin's select works. 

ever.-'' This will include spiritual with temporal, and, taken to- 
gether, must operate wonderfully to your purpose, by convincing 
them that they are at present under a power something like 
that spoken of in the Scriptures, which can not only kill their 
bodies, but damn their souls to all eternity, by compelling them, 
if it pleases, to worship the devil. 

XI. To make your taxes more odious, and more likely to pro- 
cure resistance, send from the capital a board of officers to super- 
intend the collection, composed of the most indiscreet, ill-bred 
and insolent, you can find. Let these have large salaries out of 
the extorted revenue, and live in open grating luxury upon the 
sweat and blood of the industrious, whom they are to worry 
continually with groundless and expensive prosecutions, before 
the above-mentioned arbitrary revenue judges ; all at the cost of 
the party prosecuted, though acquitted, because the king is to 
pay no costs. Let these men, by your order, be exempted from 
all the common taxes and burdens of the province, though they 
and their property are protected by its laws. If any revenue 
officers are suspected of the least tenderness for the people, dis- 
card them. If others are justly complained of, protect and re- 
ward them. If any of the under officers behave so as to provoke 
the people to drub them, promote those to better offices ; this 
will encourage others to procure for themselves such profitable 
drubbings, by multiplying and enlarging such provocations, — and 
ail will work towards the end you aim at. 

XII. Another way to make your tax odious is, to misapphj 
the produce of it. If it was originally appropriated for the de- 
fence of the provinces, and the better support of government, 
and the administration of justice W'here it may be necessary, 
then apply none of it to that defence, but bestow it, where it ia 
not necessary, in augmenting salaries or pensions to every gov- 
ernor who has distinguished himself by his enmity to the people, 
and by calumniating them to their sovereign. This will make 
them pay it more unwillingly, and be more apt to quarrel with 
those that collect it, and those that imposed it, who will quarrel 
again with them, — and all shall contribute to your own purpose, 
of making them weary of your government. 

XIII. If the people of any province have been accustomed to 
support their mnn governors and judges to satisfaction, you are 
to apprehend that such governors and judges may be thereby 
influenced to treat the people kindly, and to do them justice. 
This is another reason for applying part of that revenue in larger 
salaries to such governors and judges, given, as their commissions 
are, during tjour pleasure only, forbidding them to take any sal- 



HIS POLITICAL PAPERS. 275 

ariea from their provinces ; that thus the people may no longer 
hope any kindness from their governors, or (in crown cases) and 
justice from their judges. And, as the money, thus misapplied 
in one province, is extorted from all, probably all will resent the 
misapplication. 

Xiy. If the Parliaments of your provinces should dare to 
claim rights, or complain of your administration, order them to 
be harassed with repeated dissolutio?is. If the same men are 
continually returned by new elections, adjourn their meetings to 
some country village, where they cannot be accommodated, and 
there keep them during pleasure ; for this, you know, is your 
prerogative, and an excellent one it is, as you may manage it to 
promote discontents among the people, diminish their respect, 
and increase their disaffection. 

XV. Convert the brave, honest officers of your 7iavy into 
pimping tide-waiters and colony officers of the customs. Let 
those who in time of war fought gallantly in defence of the com- 
merce of their countrymen in peace be taught to prey upon it. 
Let them learn to be corrupted by great and real smugglers ; but 
(to show their diligence) scour with armed boats every bay, har- 
bor, river, creek, cove or nook, throughout the coast of your 
colonies ; stop and detain every coaster, every wood-boat, every 
fisherman ; tumble their cargoes and even their ballast inside out, 
and upside down ; and if a pennyworth of pins is found un-entered, 
let the whole be seized and confiscated. Thus shall the trade of 
your colonists suffer more from their friends in time of peace 
than it did from their enemies in war. Then let these boats' 
crews land upon every farm in their way, rob their orchards, 
steal their pigs and poultry, and insult the inhabitants. If the 
injured and exasperated farmers, unable to procure other justice, 
should attack the aggressors, drub them, and burn their boats, 
you are to call this high treason and rebellion, order fleets and 
armies into their country, and threaten to carry all the offenders 
three thousand miles to be hanged, drawn, and quartered. — ! 
this will work admirably. 

XVI. If you are told of discontents in your colonies, never 
believe that they are general, or that you have given occasion for 
them ; therefore do not think of applying any remedy, or of 
changing any offensive measure. Redress no grievance, lest they 
should be encouraged to demand the redress of some other griev- 
ance. Grant no request that is just and reasonable, lest they 
should make another, that is unreasonable. Take all your inform- 
ations of the state of the colonies from your governors and 
officers in enmity with them. Encourage and reward these leas* 



276 franklin's select works. 

ing-makers, secrete their lying accusations, lest they should be 
confuted, but act upon them as the clearest evidence, and believe 
nothing you hear from the friends of the people. Suppose all 
their complaints to be invented and promoted by a few factious 
demagogues, whom, if you could catch and hang, all would be 
quiet. Catch and hang a few of them accordingly, and the blood 
of the martyrs shall work miracles in favor of your purpose. 

XVII. If you see rival nations rejoicing at the prospect of 
your disunion with your provinces, and endeavoring to promote 
it, — if they translate, publish and applaud, all the complaints of 
your discontented colonies, at the same time privately stimulating 
you to severer measures, — let not that alarm or offend you. Why 
should it, since you all mean the same thing ? 

XVIII. If any colony should, at their own charge, erect a 
fortress, to secure their port against the fleets of a foreign enemy, 
get your governor to betray that fortress into your hands. Never 
think of paying what it cost the country, for that would look, at 
least, like some regard for justice ; but turn it into a citadel, to 
awe the inhabitants and curb their commerce. If they should 
have lodged in such fortress the very arms they bought and used 
to aid you in your conquests, seize them all ; it will provoke 
like ingratitude, added to robbery. One admirable elFect of these 
operations will be, to discourage every other colony from erecting 
such defences, and so their and your enemies may more easily 
invade them, to the great disgrace of your government, and of 
course the furtherance of your project. 

XIX. Send armies into their country, under pretence of pro- 
tecting the inhabitants ; but, instead of garrisoning the forts on 
their frontiers with those troops, to prevent incursions, demolish 
those forts, and order the troops into the heart of the country, 
that the savages may be encouraged to attack the frontiers, and 
that the troops may be protected by the inhabitants ; this will 
seem to proceed from your ill-will or your ignorance, and con- 
tribute further to produce and strengthen an opinion among them 
that you are no longer fit to govern them. 

XX. Lastly, invest the general of your army in the provhices 
with great and unconstitutional powers, and free him from the 
control of even your own civil governors. Let him have troops 
enough under his command, with all the fortresses in his posses- 
sion, and who knows but (like some provincial generals in the 
Roman empire, and encouraged by the universal discontent you 
have produced) he may take it into his head to set up for him- 
self? If he should, and you have carefully practised these fiew 
excellent rules of mine, take my word for it, all the provinces 



HIS POLITICAL PAPERS. 27T 

Will immediately join him ; and you will that day (if you have 
not done it sooner) get rid of the trouble of governing them, 
and all the plagues attending their commerce and connection 
from thenceforth and forever. 



AN ALGERINE SPEECH. 
To the Editor of the Federal Gazette. 

March 23, 1790. 
Sir : Reading last night in your excellent paper the speech 
of Mr Jackson in Congress, against their meddling with the 
affair of slavery, or attempting to mend the condition of the 
slaves, it put me in mind of a similar one made about one hundred 
years since, by Side Mehemed Ibrahim, a member of the Divan 
of Algiers, which may be seen in Martin's account of his consul- 
ship, Anno 1687. It was against granting the petition of the 
sect called Erika or Purists, who prayed for the abolition of 
piracy and slavery, as being unjust. Mr. Jackson does not quote 
it, — perhaps he has not seen it. If, therefore, some of its reason- 
ings are to be found in his eloquent speech, it may only show 
that men's interests and intellects operate and are operated on 
with surprising similarity in all countries and climates, whenever 
they are under similar circumstances. The African's speech, as 
translated, is as follows : 

" Allah BismUlah, ^c. 
" God is great, and Mahomet is his prophet. 

" Have these Erika considered the consequences of granting 
their petition ? If we cease our cruises against the Christians, 
how shall we be furnished with the commodities their countries 
produce, and which are so necessary for us ? If we forbear to 
make slaves of their people, who, in this hot climate, are to cul- 
tivate our lands ? Who are to perform the common labors of our 
citv, and in our families ? Must we not then be our own slaves ? 
And is there not more compassion and more favor due to us as 
Mosselmen than to these Christian dogs ? 

" We have now about fifty thousand slaves in and near Algiers ; 
this number, if not kept up by fresh supplies, will soon diminish 
and be gradually annihilated. If we then cease taking and 
plundering the infidel ships, and making slaves of the seamen 
and passengers, our lands will become of no value for want 
of cultivation, the rents of houses in the city will sink one- 
24 



278 franklin's select works. 

half, and the revenue of government arising from its share of 
prizes be totally destroyed ! And for what ? To gratify the 
whims of a whimsical sect, who would have us not only forbear 
making more slaves, but even to manumit those we have ! But 
who is to indemnify their masters for the loss ? Will the state 
do it ? Is our treasury sufficient ? AVill the Erika do it ? Can 
they do it ? Or would they, to do what they think justice to 
the slaves, do a greater injustice to the owners ? 

" And, if we set our slaves free, what is to be done with them ? 
Few of them will return to their countries ; they know too well 
the greater hardships they must there be subject to; they will 
not embrace our holy religion ; they will not adopt our manners ; 
our people will not pollute ourselves by intermarrying with them. 
Must we maintain them as beggars in our streets, or suffer our 
properties to be the prey of their pillage ? for men accustomed 
to slavery will not work for a livelihood when not compelled. 
And what is there so pitiable in their present condition ? Were 
they not slaves in their own countries ? Are not Spain, Portu- 
gal, France, and the Italian States, governed by despots, who 
hold all their subjects in slavery, without exception ? Even 
England treats its sailors as slaves : for they are, whenever the 
government pleases, seized, and confined in ships of war, con- 
demned not only to work, but to fight, for small wages, or a mere 
subsistence, not better than our slaves are allowed by us. 

" Is their condition, then, made worse by their falling into our 
hands ? No, they have only exchanged one slavery for another, 
and I may say a better ; for here they are brought into a land 
where the sun of Islamism gives forth its light, and shines in 
full splendor, and they have an opportunity of making them- 
selves acquainted with the true doctrine, and thereby saving 
their immortal souls. Those who remain at home have not that 
happiness. Sending the slaves home, then, would be sending 
them out of light into darkness. I repeat the question, W^hat is 
to be done with them ? I have heard it suggested that they 
may be planted in the wilderness, where there is plenty of land 
for them to subsist on, and where they may flourish as a free 
state ; but they are, I doubt, too little disposed to labor without 
compulsion, as well as too ignorant, to establish a good govern- 
ment ; and the wild Arabs would soon molest and destroy or again 
enslave them. While serving us, we take care to provide them 
with everything, and they are treated with humanity. The 
laborers in their own country are, as I am well informed, worse 
fed, lodged, and clothed. The condition of most of them is 
therefore already mended, and requires no further improvement. 



HIS POLITICAL PAPERS. 279 

Here their lives are in safety. Thej are not liable to be im- 
pressed for soldiers, and forced to cut one another's Christian 
throats, as in the wars of their own countries. 

" If some of the religious mad bigots who now tease us with 
their silly petitions have, in a fit of blind zeal, freed their 
slaves, it was not generosity, it was not humanity, that moved 
them to the action ; it was from the conscious burden of a load 
of sins, and a hope, from the supposed merits of so good a work, 
to be excused from damnation. How grossly are they mistaken 
to suppose slavery to be disallowed by the Koran ! Are not the 
tv/o precepts, to quote no more, ' blasters, treat your slaves loith 
kindness ; slaves, serve your masters with cheerfidness and fidel- 
ity,'' clear proofs to the contrary ? Nor can the plundering of 
infidels be in that sacred book forbidden, since it is well known 
from it that God has given the world, and all that it contains, 
■^0 his faithful Mosselmen, who are to enjoy it of right, as fast 
as they conquer it. 

" Let us, then, hear no more of this detestable proposition, the 
manumission of Christian slaves, the adoption of which would, 
by depreciating our lands and houses, and thereby depriving so 
many good citizens of their properties, create universal discon- 
tent, and provoke insurrections, to the endangering of govern- 
ment, and producing general confusion. I have therefore no 
doubt but this wise council will prefer the comfort and happiness 
of a whole nation of true believers to the whim of a few Erika, 
and dismiss their petition." 

The result was, as Martin tells us, that the Divan came to 
this resolution : " The doctrine that plundering and enslaving 
the Christians is unjust is at best problematical ; but that it is 
the interest of this state to continue the practice is clear ; — there- 
fore let the petition be rejected." 

And it was rejected accordingly. 

And since like motives are apt to produce in the minds of 
men like opinions and resolutions, may we not, Mr. Brown, ven- 
ture to predict, from this account, that the petitions to the Par- 
liament of England for abolishing the slave-trade, to say nothing 
of other legislatures, and the debates upon them, will have a 
similar conclusion ? 

I am, sir, your constant reader and humble servant, 

HlSTORlCUS. 



280 franklin's select works. 

ON GRATITUDE TO THE MINISTRY. 

To the Printer of the Public Advertiser, 

[Supposed date, London, 1772. J 

Sir : Your correspondent Britannicus inveighs violently 
agaiast Dr. Franklin for his ingratitude to the ministry of this 
nation, who have conferred upon him so many favors. They 
gave him the post-office of America, they made his son a gov- 
ernor, and they ofiered him a post of five hundred a year in 
the salt office if he would relinquish the interests of his coun- 
try ; but he has had the wickedness to continue true to it, and 
is as much an American as ever. As it is a settled point in 
government here that every man has his price, 'tis plain they 
are buno;lers in their business, and have not given him enough. 
Their master has as much reason to be angry with them as 
Rodrigue, in the play, with his apothecary, for not efi'ectually 
poisoning Pandolpho, and they must probably make use of the 
apothecary's justification, namely : 

" SCENE IV. 

" Rodrigue a7id Fell the Apothecary. 

" Rodrigue. You promised to have this Pandolpho upon his 
bier in less than a week ; 'tis more than a month since, and he 
still walks and stares me in the face. 

" Fell. True ; and yet I have done my best endeavors. In 
various ways I have given the miscreant as much poison as 
would have killed an elephant. He has swallowed dose after 
dose ; far from hurting him, he seems the better for it. He hath 
a wonderfully strong constitution. I find I cannot kill him but 
Dy cutting his throat, and that, as I take it, is not my business. 

^'Rodrigue. Then it must be mine." 



PHILOSOPHICAL. 



# 



[to peter COLLINSON, LONDON.] 

THE ELECTRICAL KITE. 

Philadelphia, Oct. 16, 1752. 

As FREQUENT mention is made in public papers from Europe of 
the success of the Philadelphia experiment for drawing the 
electric fire from clouds by means of pointed rods of iron erected 

*"We have already quoted (page 106) the high and authoritative es- 
timate placed upon Franklin's philosophical writings by Sir Humphrey 
Davy. Lord Jeffrey, in the Edinburgh Review, remarks upon them as fol- 
lows: " The most ingenious and profound explanations are suggested, as if 
they were the most natural and obvious wa,y of accounting for the phe- 
nomena; and the author seems to value himself so little on his most im- 
portant discoveries, that it is necessary to compare him with others before 
we can form a just notion of his merits. As he seems to be conscious of no 
exertion, he feels no partiality for any part of his speculations, and never 
seeks to raise the reader's ideas of their importance by any arts of declama- 
tion or eloquence. Indeed, the habitual precision of his conceptions, and 
his invariable practice of referring to specific facts and observations, secui-ed 
him, in a great measure, both from extravagant conjectures, in which too 
many naturalists have indulged, and from the zeal and enthusiasm which 
seem so naturally to be engendered in their defence. He was by no means 
averse to give scope to his imagination in suggesting a variety of explana- 
tions of obscure and unmanageable phenomena; but he never alloAved him- 
self to confound these vague and conjectural theories with the solid results 
of experience and observation. In his meteorological papers, and in his 
observations upon heat and light, there is a great deal of such bold and 
original suggestion; but the author evidently sets little value on them, and 
has no sooner disburdened his mind of the impressions from which they 
proceeded, than he seems to dismiss them entirely from his consideration, 
and turns to the legitimate philosophy of experiment with unabated dili- 
gence and humility. As an instance of this disposition, we may quote part 
of a letter to the Abbe Soulavie upon a new theory of the earth, which ho 
proposes and dismisses, without concern or anxiety, in the course of a few 
sentences; though, if the idea had fallen on the, brain of an European philosopher^ 
it might have germinated into a volume of eloquence, like Buffon's, or an infinite 
array of paragraphs and observations, like those of Parkinson or Dr 
Hutton." 

24^ 



282 franklin's select works. 

on higli buildings, &c., it may be agreeable to the curious to be 
informed that the same experiment has succeeded in Philadel- 
phia, though made in a difierent and more easy manner, which 
is as follows : 

Make a small cross of two light strips of cedar, the arms so 
long as to reach to the four corners of a large thin silk handker- 
chief when extended ; tie the corners of the handkerchief to the 
extremities of the cross, so you have the body of a kite ; which 
being properly accommodated with a tail, loop and string, will 
rise in the air like those made of paper ; but this, being of silk, 
is fitter to bear the wet and wind of a thunder-gust without tear- 
ing. To the top of the upright stick of the cross is to be fixed a 
very sharp-pointed wire, rising a foot or more above the wood. 
To the end of the twine next the hand is to be tied a silk 
ribbon, and where the silk and twine join a key may be fastened. 

This kite is to be raised when a thunder-gnst appears to be 
coming on, and the person who holds the string must stand within 
a door or window, or under some cover, so that the silk ribbon 
may not be wet ; and care must be taken that the twine does not 
touch the frame of the door or window. As soon as any of the 
thunder-clouds come over the kite, the pointed wire will draw 
the electric fire from them, and the kite, with all the twine, will 
be electrified, and the loose filaments of the twine will stand out 
every way, and be attracted by an approaching finger. And 
when the rain has wetted the kite and twine, so that it can con- 
duct the electric fire freely, you will find it stream out plenti- 
fully from the key on the approach of your knuckle. At this 
key the vial may be charged ; and from electric fire thus ob- 
tained spirits may be kindled, and all the other electric experi- 
ments be performed which are usually done by the help of a rubbed 
glass globe or tube, and thereby the sameness of the electric 
matter with that of lightning com.pletely demonstrated. 

* In 1747, Franklin wrote, in reference to his electrical pursuits, t'j 
Peter Collinson : " I never was before engaged in any study that so totally 
engrossed my attention and time as this has lately done ; for, what with 
making experiments when I can be alone, and repeating them to my friends 
and acquaintance, who, from the novelty of the thing, come continually in 
crowds to see them, I have during some months past had little leisure tor 
anything else." Collinson wrote to him from London, in 17i3 : "The King 
of France strictly commands the Abb" Mazeas to write a letter in the p(;lit- 
est terms to the Royal Society, to return the king's thanks and comj)!!- 
ments, in an express manner, to Mr. Franklin, of Pennsylvania, for hi-) 
useful discoveries in electricity, and the application of pointed rods to 
prevent the terrible etfects of thunder-storms." 



HIS PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS. 283 

[to DK. lining, at CHARLESTON.] 

VARIOUS EXPERIMENTS — TREATMENT OF INVENTORS. 

Philadelphia, March 18, 1775. 

Your question, how I came first to think of proposing the ex- 
periment of drawing down the lightning, in order to ascertain its 
sameness with the electric fluid, I cannot answer better than by 
giving you an extract from the minutes I used to keep of the 
experiments I made, with memorandums of such as I purposed 
to make, the reasons for making; them, and the observations that 
arose upon them, from which minutes my letters were afterwards 
drawn. By this extract you will see that the thought was not 
so much " an out-of-the-way one " but that it might have oc- 
curred to an electrician. 

" Nov. 7, 1749. — Electrical fluid agrees with lightning in these 
particulars : 1. Giving light. 2. Color of the light. 3. Crooked 
direction. 4. Swift motion. 5. Being conducted by metals. 
6. Crack or noise in exploding. 7. Subsisting in water or ice. 
8. Rending bodies it passes through. 9. Destroying animals. 
10. Meltin;2; metals. 11. Firino- inflammable substances. 12. 
Sulphureous smell. — The electric fluid is attracted by points. — 
We do not know whether this property is in lightmng. — But, 
since they agree in all the particulars wherein we can already 
compare them, is it not probable they agree likewise in this ? 
Let the experiment be made." 

I wish I could give you any satisfaction in the article of 
clouds. I am still at a loss about the manner in which they be- 
come charged with electricity ; no hypothesis I have yet formed 
perfectly satisfying me. Some time since, I heated very hot a 
brass plate two feet square, and placed it on an electric stand. 
From the plate a wire extended horizontally four or five feet, 
and, at the end of it, hung, by linen threads, a pair of cork 
balls. 1 then repeatedly sprinkled water over the plate, that it 
might be raised from it in vapor, hoping that if the vapor either 
carried ofi" the electricity of the plate, or left behind it that of 
the water (one of which I supposed it must do, if, like the clouds, 
it became electrized itself, either positively or negatively), I 
should perceive and determine it by the separation of the balls, 
and by finding whether they were positive or negative ; but no 
alteration was made at all, nor could I perceive that the s^team 
was itself electrized, though I have still some suspicion that the 
steam was not fully examined, and I think the experiment 
Bhould be repeated. Whether the first state of electrized clouds 



284 franklin's select works. 

is positive or negative, if I could find the cause of that, I should 
be at no loss about the other ; for either is easily deduced from 
the other, as one state is easily produced by the other. A 
strongly positive cloud may drive out of a neighboring cloud 
much of its natural quantity of the electric fluid, and, passing 
by it, leave it in a negative state. In the same way, a strongly 
negative cloud may occasion a neighboring cloud to draAV into 
itself from others an additional quantity, and, passing by it, 
leave it in a positive state. How these effects may be produced 
you will easily conceive, on perusing and considering the experi- 
ments in the enclosed paper ; and from them too it appears 
probable that every change from positive to negative, and from 
negative to positive, that during a thunder-gust we see in the 
cork balls annexed to the apparatus, is not owing to the presence 
of clouds in the same state, but often to the absence of positive 
or negative clouds, that, having just passed, leave the rod in the 
opposite state. 

The knocking down of the six men was performed with two of 
my large jars not fully charged. I laid one end of my discharg- 
ing-rod upon the head of the first ; he laid his hand upon the 
head of the second ; the second his hand on the head of the 
third, and so to the last, who held in his hand the chain that 
was connected with the outside of the jars. When they were 
thus placed, I applied the other end of my rod to the prime con- 
ductor, and they all dropped together. When they got up, 
they all declared they had not felt any stroke, and wondered 
how they came to fall ; nor did any of them either hear the 
crack, or see the light of it. You suppose it a dangerous ex- 
periment ; but I had once suffered the same myself, receiving, 
by accident, an equal stroke through my head, that struck me 
down, without hurting me; and I had seen a young woman who 
was about to be electrified through the feet (for some indisposi- 
tion) receive a greater charge through the head, by inadvertently 
stooping forward to look at the placing of her feet, till her fore- 
head (as she was very tall) came too near my prime conductor : 
she dropped, but instantly got up again, complaining of nothing. 
A person so struck sinks down doubled, or folded together as it 
were, the joints losing their strength and stiffness at once, so 
that he drops on the spot where he stood instantly, and there is 
no previous staggering, nor does he ever fell lengthwise. Too 
great a charge might, indeed, kill a man ; but I have not yet 
Been any hurt done by it. It would certainly, as you observe, 
be the easiest of all deaths. 

The experiment you have heard so imperfect an account of is 



HIS PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS. 285 

merely this : I electrified a silver pint can,* on an electric stand, 
and then lowered into it a cork ball of about an inch diame- 
ter, hanging by a silk string, till the cork touched the bottom of 
the can. The cork was not attracted to the inside of the can as 
it would have been to the outside ; and though it touched the 
bottom, yet when drawn out it was not found to be electrified 
by that touch, as it would have been by touching the outside. 
The fact is singular. You require the reason ; I do not know 
it. Perhaps you may discover it, and then you will be so good 
as to communicate it to me."^ I find a frank acknowledgment 
of one's ignorance is not only the easiest way to get rid of a 
difficulty, but the likeliest way to obtain information, and there- 
fore I practise it ; I think it an honest policy. Those who afi"ect 
to be thought to know everything, and so undertake to explain 
everything, often remain long ignorant of many things that 
others could and would instruct them in, if they appeared less 
conceited. 

The treatment your friend has met with is so common, that no 
man who knows what the world is, and ever has been, should 
expect to escape it. 

There are everywhere a number of people, who, being totally 
destitute of any inventive faculty themselves, do not readily con- 
ceive that others may possess it ; they think of inventions as 
of miracles, — there might be such formerly, but they are 
ceased. AYith these, every one who offers a new invention is 
deemed a pretender ; he had it from some other country, or from 
some book ; a man of their own acquaintance, one who has no 
more sense than themselves, could not possibly, in their opinion, 
have been the inventor of anything. They are confirmed, too, in 
these sentiments, by frequent instances of pretensions to inven- 
tion, which vanity is daily producing. That vanity too, though 
an incitement to invention, is, at the same time, the pest of in- 
ventors. Jealousy and envy deny the merit or the novelty of 
your invention ; but vanity, when the novelty and merit are es- 
tablished, claims it for its own. The smaller your invention is, 
the more mortification you receive in having the credit of it 
disputed with you by a rival, whom the jealousy and envy of 
others are ready to support against you, at least so far as to 
make the point doubtful. t It is not in itself of importance 

* Dr. Franklin afterwards thought that, possibly, the mutual repulsion 
of the inner opposite sides of the electrized might prevent the accumulating 
of an electric atmosphere upon them, and occasion it to stand chiefly on the 
outside; but recommended it to the further examination of the curious. 

t We have heard of persons in Philadelphia, even at the present day, 
■who deny to Franklin the merit of his electrical discoveries. 



286 franklin's select ^vorks. 

enougli for a dispute ; no one would think your proofs and 
reasons worth their attention ; and yet, if you do not dispute 
the point, and demonstrate your right, you not only lose the 
credit of being in that instance ingeiiiojcs, but you suffer the 
disgrace of not being ingenuovs^ — not only of being a plagiary, 
but of being a plagiary for trifles. Had the invention been 
greater, it would have disgraced you less; for men have not so 
contemptible an idea of him that robs for gold on the highway 
as of him that can pick pockets for half-pence and farthings. 

Thus, through envy, jealousy, and the vanity of competitors 
for fame, the origin of many of the most extraordinary inven- 
tions, though produced within but a few centuries past, is in- 
volved in doubt and uncertainty. We scarce know to whom we 
are indebted for the compass, and for spectacles ; nor have even 
paper and printing, that record everything else, been able to 
preserve with certainty the name and reputation of their invent- 
ors. One would not, therefore, of all faculties or qualities of 
the mind, wish, for a friend, or a child, that he should have that 
of invention. For his attempts to benefit mankind in that way, 
however well imagined, if they do not succeed, expose him, 
though very unjustly, to general ridicule and contempt ; and, if 
they do succeed, to envy, robbery, and abuse. 



[to MR. KINNERSLET.] 

FIRE IN BODIES — EXPERIMENT. 

London, Feb. 20, 1762. 

How many ways there are of kindling fire, or producing heat 
in bodies ! By the sun's rays, by collision, by friction, by ham- 
mering, by putrefaction, by fermentation, by mixtures of fluids, 
by mixtures of solids with fluids, and by electricity. And yet 
the fire, when produced, though in different bodies it may differ 
in circumstances, as in color, vehemence, &c., yet in the same 
bodies it is generally the same. Does not this seem to indicate 
that the fire existed in the body, though in a quiescent state, 
before it was by any of these means excited, disengaged, and 
brought forth to action and to view ? May it not constitute 
a part, and even a principal part, of the solid substance of 
bodies ? 

If this should be the case, kindling fire in a body would be 



HIS PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS. 287 

nothing more than developing this inflammable principle, and 
setting it at liberty to act in separating the parts of t'uit body, 
which then exhibits the appearances of scorching, melting, burn- 
ing, &c. When a man lights a hundred candies from the flame 
of one, without diminishing that flame, can it be properly said 
to have communicated all that fire ? When a single spark from 
a flint, applied to a magazine of gunpowder, is immediately 
attended with this consequence, that the whole is in flame, ex- 
ploding with immense violence, could all this fire exist fir:5t in 
the spark ? We cannot conceive it. 

And thus we seem led to this supposition, — that there is fire 
enough in all bodies to singe, melt, or burn them, whenever it is. 
by any means, set at liberty, so that it may exert itself upon 
them, or be disengaged from them. This liberty seems to be 
afibrded it by the passage of electricity through them, which we 
know can and does, of itself, separate the parts even of water ; 
and perhaps the immediate appearances of fire are only the 
eflects of such separations. If so, there would be no need of 
supposing that the electric fluid heats itself by the swiftness of 
its motion, or heats bodies by the resistance it meets with in 
passing through them. They would only be heated in propor- 
tion as such separation could be more easily made. Thus a melt- 
ing heat caimot be given to a large wire in the flame of a candle, 
though it may to a small one ; and this not because the large 
w^ire resists less that action of the flame w^hich tends to separate 
its parts, but because it resists it more than the smaller wire ; or 
because the force, being divided among more parts, acts weaker 
on each. 

This reminds me, however, of a little experiment I have fre- 
quently made, that shows, at one operation, the difi'erent efi"ects 
of the same quantity of electric fluid passing through difi'erent 
quantities of metal. A strip of tin-foil, three inches long, a 
quarter of an inch wide at one end, and tapering all the w^ay to 
a sharp point at the other, fixed between two pieces of glass, 
and having the electricity of a large glass jar sent through it, 
will not be discomposed in the broadest part ; towards the mid- 
dle will appear melted in spots ; where narrower, it will be quite 
melted ; and about half an inch of it next the point will be re- 
duced to smoke. 



288 franklin's select works. 



PROTECTION FROM LIGHTNING. 

Paris, Sept. 1767. 

Experiments made in electricity first gave philosophers a sus- 
picion that the matter of lightning was the same with the elec- 
tric matter. Experiments afterwards made on lightning obtained 
from the clouds by pointed rods, received into bottles, and sub- 
jected to every trial, have since proved this suspicion to be per- 
fectly well founded, and that whatever properties we find in 
electricity are also the properties of lightning. 

This matter of lightning, or of electricity, is an extreme 
subtle fluid, penetrating other bodies, and subsisting in them, 
equally diffused. 

When, by any operation of art or nature, there happens to be 
a greater proportion of this fluid in one body than in another, 
the body which has most will communicate to that which has 
least, till the proportion becomes equal ; provided the distance 
between them be not too great ; or, if it is too great, till there 
be proper conductors to convey it from one to the other. 

If the communication be through the air without any con- 
ductor, a bright light is seen between the bodies, and a sound is 
heard. In our small experiments, we call this light and sound 
the electric spark and snap ; but in the great operations of na- 
ture the light is what we call lightning, and the sound (pro- 
duced at the same time, though generally arriving later at our 
ears than the light does to our eyes) is, with its echoes, called 
thunder. 

If the communication of this fluid is by a conductor, it may 
be without either light or sound, the subtle fluid passing in the 
jijubstance of the conductor. 

If the conductor be good and of sufiicient bigness, the fluid 
passes through it without hurting it. If otherwise, it is damaged 
or destroyed. 

All metals, and water, are good conductors. Other bodies 
may become conductors by having some quantity of water in 
them, as wood, and other materials used in building ; but not 
having much water in them, they are not good conductors, and, 
therefore, are often damaged in the operation. 

Glass, wax, silk, wool, hair, feathers, and even wood, perfectly 
dry, are non-conductors ; that is, they resist instead of facilitat- 
ing the passage of this subtle fluid. 

When this fluid has an opportunity of passing through two 
'conductors, — one good and sufficient, as of metal, the other not so 
good, — it passes in the best, and will follow it in any direction. 



HIS PHILOSOPHICAL PAPEES. 289 

The distance at which a body charged with this fluid will dis- 
charge itself suddenly, striking through the air into another 
bjdy that is not charged, or not so highly charged, is different 
according to the quantity of the fluid, the dimensions and form 
of the bodies themselves, and the state of*lhe air between them. 
This distance, whatever it happens to be, between any two bodies, 
is called their striking distance, as, till they come within that 
distance of each other, no stroke will be made. 

The clouds have often more of this fluid in proportion than 
the earth ; in which case, as soon as they come near enough (that 
is, within the striking distance) or meet with a conductor, the 
fluid quits them and strikes into the earth. A cloud fully charged 
with this fluid, if so high as to be beyond the striking distance 
from the earth, jDasses quietly, without making noise or giving 
light, unless it meets with other clouds that have less. 

Tall trees and lofty buildings, as the towers and spires of 
churches, become sometimes conductors between the clouds and 
the earth ; but not being good ones, — that is, not conveying the 
fluid freely, — they are often damaged. 

Buildings that have their roofs covered with lead, or other 
metal, the spouts of metal continued from the roof into the 
ground to carry off the water, are never hurt by lightning, as, 
whenever it falls on such a building, it passes in the metals, and 
not in the walls. 

When other buildings happen to be within the striking dis- 
tance from such clouds, the fluid passes in the walls, whether of 
wood, brick or stone, quitting the walls only when it can find 
better conductors near them, as metal rods, bolts, and hinges of 
windows or doors, gilding on wainscot or frames of pictures, the 
silvering on the backs of looking-glasses, the wires for bells, and 
the bodies of animals, as containing watery fluids. And, in pass- 
ing through the house, it follows the direction of these conductors, 
taking as many in its way as can assist it in its passage, whether 
in a straight or crooked line, leaping from one to the other, if 
not far distant from each other, only rending the wall in the 
spaces where these partial good conductors are too distant from 
each other. 

An iron rod being placed on the outside of a building, from the 
highest part continued down into the moist earth, in any direc- 
tion, straight or crooked, following the form of the roof or parts 
of the building, will receive the ligntning at its upper end, 
attracting it so as to prevent its striking any other part ; and, 
affording it a good conveyance into the earth, will prevent its 
damaging any part of the building. 
25 



290 franklin's select works. 

A small qiiantitj of metal is found able to conduct a greai 
quantity of this fluid. A wire no bigger than a goose-quill has 
been known to conduct (with safety to the building as far as 
the wire was continued) a quantity of lightning that did prodi- 
gious damage both above and below it ; and probably larger 
rods are not necessary, though it is common in America to make 
them of half an inch, some of three-quarters, or an indi diame- 
ter. 

The rod may be fiistened to the wall, chimney, &c., with 
staples of iron. The lightning will not leave the rod (a good 
conductor) to pass into the wall (a bad conductor) through those 
staples. It would rather, if any were in the walls, pass out of 
it into the rod, to get more readily by that conductor into the 
earth. 

If the building be very large and extensive, two or more rods 
may be placed at different parts, for greater security. 

Small ragged parts of clouds, suspended in the air between 
the great body of clouds and the earth (like leaf-gold in electri- 
cal experiments), often serve as partial conductors for the light- 
ning, which proceeds from one of them to another, and by their 
help comes within the striking distance to the earth or a build- 
in o;. It therefore strikes through those conductors a buildino; 
that would otherwise be out of the striking distance. 

Long sharp points communicating with the earth, and presented 
to such parts of clouds, drawing silently from them the fluid 
they are charged with, they are then attracted to the cloud, and 
may leave the distance so great as to be beyond the reach of 
striking. 

It is therefore that we elevate the upper end of the rod six or 
eight feet above the highest part of the building, tapering it 
gradually to a fine sharp point, which is gilt to prevent its rust- 
ins;. 

Thus the pointed rod either prevents a stroke from the cloud, 
or, if a stroke is made, conducts it to the earth with safety to 
the building. 

The lower end of the rod should enter the earth so deep as to 
come at the moist part, perhaps two or three feet ; and if bent 
when under the surface so as to go in a horizontal line six or 
eight feet from the wall, and then bent again downwards three 
or four feet, it will prevent damage to any of the stones of the 
foundation. 

A person apprehensive of danger from lightning, happening 
during the time of thunder to be in a house not so secured, will 
do well to avoid sitting near the chimney, near a lo®king-glass, 



HIS PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS. 291 

or any gilt pictures or wainscot ; the safest place is the middle 
of the room (so it be not under a metal lustre suspended by a 
chain), sitting in one chair and laying the feet up in another. It 
is still safer to bring two or three mattresses or beds into the 
middle of the room, and, folding them up double, place the chair 
upon them ; for they not being so good conductors as the walls, 
the lightning will not choose an interrupted course through the 
air of the room and the bedding, when it can go through a con- 
tinued better conductor, the wall. But where it can be had, a 
hammock or swinging bed, suspended by silk cords equally dis- 
tant from the walls on every side, and from the ceiling and floor 
above and below, aff"ords the safest situation a person can have 
in any room whatever, and what indeed may be deemed quite 
free from danger of any stroke by lightning. 



[to JOHN PRINGLE, M.D.] 

ON THE EFFECTS OF ELECTRICITY IN PARALYTIC 

CASES. 

Craven-street, Dec. 21, 1757. 

In compliance with your request, I send you the following 
account of what I can at present recollect relating to the effects 
of electricity in paralytic cases, which have fallen under my 
observation. 

Some years since, when the newspapers made mention of great 
cures performed in Italy and Germany by means of electricity, 
a number of paralytics were brought to me from different parts 
of Pennsylvania, and the neighboring provinces, to be electrized, 
which I did for them at their request. My method was, to place 
the patient first in a chair on an electric stool, and draw a 
number of large strong sparks from all parts of the affected 
limb or side. Then I fully charged two six-gallon glass jars, 
each of which had about three square feet of surface coated ; 
and sent the united shock of these through the affected 
limb or limbs, repeating the stroke commonly three times each 
day. The first thing observed was an immediate greater sen- 
sible warmth in the lame limbs that had received the stroke 
than in the others; and the next morning the patients usually 
related that they had in the night felt a pricking sensation in 
the flesh of the paralytic limbs ; and would sometimes show a 
number of small red spots, which they supposed were occasioned 



292 franklin's select works. 

by tliose prickings. The limbs, too, were found more capable 
of voluntary motion, and seemed to receive strength. 

A man, for instance, who could not the first day lift the lame 
hand from off his knee, would the next day raise it four or five 
inches, the third day higher, and on the fifth day was able, but 
with a feeble, languid motion, to take off his hat. These appear- 
ances gave great spirits to the patients, and made them hope a 
perfect cure; but I do not remember that I ever saw any amend- 
ment after the fifth day ; which the patients perceiving, and 
finding the shocks pretty severe, they became discouraged, went 
home, and in a short time relapsed ; so that I never knew any 
advantage from electricity in palsies that was permanent. And 
how far the apparent temporary advantage might arise from the 
exercise in the patient's journey, and coming daily to my house, 
or from the spirits given by the hope of success, enabling them 
to exert more strength in moving their limbs, I will not pre- 
tend to say. 

Perhaps some permanent advantage might have been obtained, 
if the electric shocks had been accompanied with proper med- 
icine and regimen, under the direction of a skilful physician. 
It may be, too, that a few great strokes, as given in my method, 
may not be so proper as many small ones ; since, by the account 
from Scotland of a case in which two hundred shocks from a 
vial were given daily, it seems that a perfect cure has been 
made. As to any uncommon strength supposed to be in the 
machine used in that case, I imagine it could have no share in 
the effect produced, since the strength of the shock from charged 
glass is in proportion to the quantity of surface of the glass 
coated ; so that my shock from those large jars, must have been 
much greater than any that could be received from a vial held 
in the hand. 



[to dr. PEECIVAL MANCHESTER.] 

METEOROLOGICAL IMAGINATIONS AND CONJECTURES. 

Passy, May 1784. 

There seems to be a region higher, in the air over all coun- 
tries, where it is always winter, where frost exists continually, 
gince in the midst of summer, on the surface of the earth, ice 
falls often from above in the form of hail. 

Hailstones, of the great weight we sometimes find them, did 



HIS PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS. 293 

not probably acquire their magnitude before they began to 
descend. The air, being eight hundred times rarer than water, 
is unable to support it but in the shape of vapor, a state in which 
its particles are separated. As soon as they are condensed by 
the cold of the upper region so as to form a drop, that drop 
begins to fall. I'' it freezes into a grain of ice, that ice 
descends. In descending, both the drop of water and the grain 
of ice are augmented by particles of the vapor they pass through 
in falling, and which they condense by coldness, and attach to 
themselves. 

It is possible that, in summer, much of what is rain when it 
arrives at the surface of the earth might have been snow when 
it began its descent; but, being thawed in passing through the 
warm air near the surface, it is changed from snow into rain. 

How immensely cold must be the original particle of hail, 
which forms the centre of the future hailstone, since it is capa- 
ble of communicating sufficient cold, if I may so speak, to 
freeze all the mass of vapor condensed round it, and form a 
lump of perhaps six or eight ounces in weight I 

When, in summer time, the sun is high, and continues long 
every day above the horizon, his rays strike the earth more 
directly, and with longer continuance, than in the winter ; hence 
the surface is more heated, and to a greater depth, by the effect 
of those rays. 

When rain falls on the heated earth, and soaks down into it, 
it carries down with it a great part of the heat, which by that 
means descends still deeper. 

The mass of earth, to the depth of perhaps thirty feet, being 
thus heated to a certain degree, continues to retain its heat for 
some time. Thus the first snows that fall in the beginning of 
winter seldom lie long on the surface, but are soon melted, 
and soon absorbed. After which, the winds that blow over the 
country on which the snows had fallen are not rendered so cold 
as they would have been, by those snows, if they had remained, 
and thus the approach of the severity of winter is retarded, 
and the extreme degree of its cold is not always at the time we 
might expect it, namely, when the sun is at its greatest distance, 
and the day shortest, but some time after that period, according to 
the English proverb, which says, "as the day lengthens, the cold 
strengthens ; " the causes of refrigeration continuing to operate, 
while the sun returns too slowly, and his force continues too 
Weak, to counteract them. 

Daring several of the months of the year 1783, when the 
effects of the sun's rays to heat the earth in these northern 
25^ 



294 franklin's select works. 

regions should have been the greatest, there existed a constant 
fog over all Europe, and great part of North America. This 
fog was of a permanent nature : it was dry, and the rays of the 
sun seemed to have little effect towards dissipating it, as they 
easily do a moist fog, arising from water. They were indeed 
rendered so faint, in passing through it, that when collected in 
the focus of a burning-glass they would scarce kindle brown 
paper. Of course, their summer effect in heating the earth was 
exceedingly diminished. 

Hence the surface was early frozen. 

Hence the first snows remained on it unmelted, and received 
continual additions. 

Hence perhaps the winter of 1783-4 was more severe than 
any that had happened for many years. 

The cause of this universal fog is not yet ascertained. 
Whether it was adventitious to this earth, and merely a smoke 
proceeding from the consumption by fire of some of those great 
burning balls or globes which we happen to meet with in our 
rapid course round the sun, and which are sometimes seen to 
kindle and be destroyed in passing our atmosphere, and whose 
smoke might be attracted and retained by our earth ; or whether 
it was the vast quantity of smoke, long continuing to issue during 
the summer from Hecla, in Iceland, and that other volcano 
which arose out of the sea near that island, which smoke might 
be spread by various winds over the northern part of the world, 
is yet uncertain. 

It seems, however, worth the inquiry, whether other hard 
winters, recorded in history, were preceded by similar permanent 
and widely-extended summer fogs. Because, if found to be so, 
men might from such fogs conjecture the probability of a suc- 
ceeding hard winter, and of the damage to be expected by the 
breaking up of frozen rivers in the spring, and take such meas- 
ures as are possible and practicable to secure themselves and 
effects from the mischiefs that attended the last. 



[to dr. lining, at CHARLESTON.] 

ON COLD PRODUCED BY EVAPORATION. 

New York, April 14, 1757. 
It is a long time since I had the pleasure of a line from you • 
and, indeed, the troubles of our country, with the hurry of busi- 



HIS PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS. 295 

ness I have been engaged in on that account, have made me so 
bad a correspondent, that I ought not to expect punctuality in 
others. 

But, being about to embark for England, I could not quit the 
continent without paying my respects to you, and, at the same 
time, taking leave to introduce to your acquaintance a gentleman 
of learning and merit. Colonel Henry Bouquet, who does me the 
favor to present you this letter, and with whom I am sure you 
will be much pleased. 

Professor Simpson, of Glasgow, lately communicated to me 
some curious experiments of a physician of his acquaintance, 
by which it appeared that an extraordinary degree of cold, even to 
freezing, might be produced by evaporation. I have not had leisure 
to repeat and examine more than the first and easiest of them, 
namely : Wet the ball of a thermometer by a feather dipped in 
spirit of wine, which has been kept in the same room, and has, of 
course, the same degree of heat or cold. The mercury sinks pres- 
ently three or four degrees, and the quicker if during the evapo- 
ration you blow on the ball with bellows ; a second wetting and 
blowing, when the mercury is down, carries it yet lower. I think 
I did not get it lower than five or six degrees from where it 
naturally stood, which was at that time sixty. But it is said 
that, a vessel of water being placed in another somewhat larger, 
containing spirit, in such a manner that the vessel of water is 
surrounded with the spirit, and both placed under the receiver 
of an air-pump, on exhausting the air, the spirit, evaporating, 
leaves such a degree of cold as to freeze the water, though the 
thermometer in the open air stands many degrees above the 
freezing point. 

I know not how this phenomena is to be accounted for ; but it 
gives me occasion to mention some loose notions relating to heat 
and cold which I have for some time entertained, but not yet 
reduced into any form. Allowing common fire, as well as elec- 
trical, to be a fluid capable of permeating other bodies, and seek- 
ing an equilibrium, I imagine some bodies are better fitted by 
nature to be conductors of that fluid than others ; and that gen- 
erally those which are the best conductors of the electric fluid 
are also the best conductors of this ; and e contra. 

Thus, a body which is a good conductor of fire readily receives 
it into its substance, and conducts it through 'he whole to all the 
parts, as metals and water do ; and if two bodies, both good con- 
ductors, one heated and the other in its common state, are 
brought into contact with each other, the body which has most 
fire readily communicates of it to that which had least, and that 



296 feanklin's select works. 

which had least readily receives it, till an equilibrium is produced, 
Thus, if jou take a dollar between your fingers with one hand, 
and a piece of wood of the same dimensions with the other, and 
bring both at the same time to the flame of a candle, you will 
find yourself obliged to drop the dollar before you drop the wood, 
because it conducts the heat of the candle sooner to your flesh. 
Thus, if a silver tea-pot had a handle of the same metal, it would 
conduct the heat from the water to the hand, and become too hot 
to be used ; we therefore give to a metal tea-pot a handle of 
wood, which is not so good a conductor as metal. But a china 
or stone tea-pot, being in some degree of the nature of glass, which 
is not a good conductor of heat, may have a handle of the same stuff. 
Thus, also, a damp, moist air shall make a man more sensible of 
cold, or chill him more, than a dry air that is colder ; because a 
moist air is fitter to receive and conduct away the heat of his 
body. This fluid, entering bodies in great quantity, first expands 
them by separating their parts a little ; afterwards, by further 
separating their parts, it renders solids fluid, and at length dissi- 
pates their parts in air. Take this fluid from melted lead, or from 
water, the parts cohere again, — the first grows solid, the latter 
becomes ice ; and this is sooner done by the means of good con- 
ductors. 

Thus, if you take, as I have done, a square bar of lead, four 
inches long and one inch thick, together with thme pieces of 
wood planed to the same dimensions, and lay them on a smooth 
board, fixed so as not to be easily separated or moved, and pour 
into the cavity they form as much melted lead as will fill it> 
you will see the melted lead chill and become firm on the side 
next the leaden bar, some time before it chills on the other three 
sides, in contact with the wooden bars, though before the lead was 
poured in they might all be supposed to have the same degree 
of heat and coldness, as they had been exposed in the same room 
to the same air. You will likewise observe that the leaden bar, 
as it has cooled the melted lead more than the wooden bars have 
done, so it is itself more heated by the melted lead. There is a 
certain quantity of this fluid called fire in every living human 
body, which fluid, being in due proportion, keeps the parts of the 
flesh and blood at such a just distance from each other as that 
the flesh and nerves are su|)ple, and the blood fit for circulation. 
If part of this due proportion of fire be conducted away, by 
means of a contact with other bodies, as air, water or metals, the 
parts of our skin and flesh that come into such contact first 
draw more near together than is agreeable, and give that sensa- 



HIS PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS. 297 

tion whicb we call cold ; and, if too much be conveyed away, the 
body stiffens, the blood ceases to flow, and death ensues. 

On the other hand, if too much of this fluid be communicated 
to the flesh, the parts are separated too far, and pain ensues, as 
when they are separated by a pin or lancet. The sensation that 
the separation by fire occasions we call heat or burning. My 
desk on which I now write, and the lock of my desk, are both 
exposed to the same temperature of the air, and have therefore the 
same degree of heat or cold : yet, if I lay my hand successively 
on the wood and on the metal, the latter feels much the coldest ; 
not that it is really so, but, being a better conductor, it more 
readily than the wood takes away and draws into itself the fire 
that was in my skin. Accordingly, if I lay one hand part on the 
lock and part on the wood, and, after it has laid on some time, 1 
feel both parts with my other hand, I find the part that has been 
in contact with the lock very sensibly colder to the touch than 
the part that lay on the wood. 

How a living animal obtains its quantity of this fluid called 
fire is a curious question. I have shown that some bodies (as 
metals) have a power of attracting it stronger than others ; and 
I have sometimes suspected that a living body had some power 
of attracting out of the air, or other bodies, the heat it wanted. 
Thus, metals hammered, or repeatedly bent, grow hot in the beat 
or hammered part. But, when I consider that air in contact with 
the body cools it ; that the surrounding air is rather heated by 
its contact with the body ; that every breath of cooler air drawn 
in carries ofi'part of the body's heat when it passes out again ; that 
therefore there must be in the body a fund for producing it, or other- 
wise the animal would soon grow cold, — I have been rather in- 
clined to think that the fluid^re, as well as the fluid air, is attract- 
ed by plants in their growth, and becomes consolidated with the 
other materials of which they are formed, and makes a great part 
of their substance ; that when they come to be digested, and to 
sufier in the vessels a kind of fermentation, part of the fire, as 
M^ell as part of the air, recovers its fluid active state again, and 
diffuses itself in the body, digesting and separating it ; that the 
fire so reproduced, by digesting and separation, continually leaving 
the body, its place is supplied by fresh quantities, arising from 
the continual separation; that whatever quickens the motion 
of the fluids in an animal quickens the separation, and reproduces 
more of the fire, as exercise ; that all the fire emitted by wood, 
and other combustibles, when burning, existed in them before, in 
a solid state, being only discovered when separating; that some 
fossils, as sulphur, sea-coal, &c., contain a great deal of solid fire, 



298 franklin's select works. 

and that, in short, what escapes and is dissipated in the burning 
of bodies, besides water and earth, is generally the air and fire 
that before made parts of the solid. Thus I imagine that ani- 
mal heat arises bj or from a kind of fermentation in the juices 
of the body, in the same manner as heat arises in the liquors 
preparing for distillation, wherein there is a separation of the 
spirituous from the watery and earthly parts. And it is re- 
markable that the liquor in a distiller's vat, when in its highest and 
best state of fermentation, as I have been informed, has the same 
degree of heat with the human body : that is, about 94 or 9G. 

Thus, as by a constant supply of fuel in a chimney you keep 
a warm room, so, by a constant supply of food in the stomach, 
you keep a warm body ; only, where little exercise is used, the 
heat may possibly be conducted away too fast ; in which case, such 
materials are to be used for clothing and bedding, against the 
effects of an immediate contact of the air, as are, in themselves, 
bad conductors of heat, and consequently prevent its being com- 
municated throuorh their substance to the air. Hence what is 
called icarmth in wool, and its preference on that account to 
linen, wool not being so good a conductor ; and hence all the 
natural coverings of animals, to keep them warm, are such as 
retain and confine the natural heat in the body, by being bad 
conductors, such as wool, hair, feathers, and the silk by which the 
silk-worm, in its tender embryo state, is first clothed. Cloth- 
ing thus considered does not make a man warm by giving warmth, 
but by preventing the too quick dissipation of the heat produced 
in his body, and so occasioning an accumulation. 

There is another curious question I will just venture to touch 
upon, namely : Whence arises the sudden extraordinary degree 
of cold perceptible on mixing some chemical liquors, and even on 
mixing salt and snow, where the composition appears colder than 
the coldest of the ino;redients ? I have never seen the chemical mix- 
tures made, but salt and snow I have often mixed myself, and am 
fully satisfied that the composition feels much colder to the touch, 
and lowers the mercury in the thermometer more, than either in- 
gredient would do separately. I suppose, with others, that cold 
is nothing more than the absence of heat or fire. Now, if the 
quantity of fire before contained or diffused in the snow and salt 
was expelled in the uniting of the two matters, it must be driven 
away either through the air or the vessel containing them. If it 
is driven off through the air, it must warm the air, and a ther- 
mometer held over the mixture, without touching it, would dis- 
cover the "heat by the rising of the mercury, as it must, and 
always does, in warm air. 



HIS PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS. 299 

This, indeed, I have not tried, but I should guess it would rather 
be driven off through the vessel, especially if the vessel be metal, 
as being a better conductor than air ; and so one should find the 
basin warmer after such mixture. But, on the contrary, the 
vessel grows cold, and even water, in which the vessel is some- 
times placed for the experiment, freezes into hard ice on the 
basin. Now, I know not how to account for this otherwise than 
by supposing that the composition is a better conductor of fire 
than the ingredients separately, and, like the lock compared with 
the wood, has a stronger power of attracting fire, and does accord- 
ingly attract it suddenly from the fingers, or a thermometer put 
into it, from the basin that contains it, and from the water in con- 
tact with the outside of the basin ; so that the fiugers have the sen- 
sation of extreme cold, by being deprived of much of their natural 
fire ; the thermometer sinks, by having part of its fire drawn out 
of the mercury ; the basin grows colder to the touch, as by having 
its fire drawn into the mixture it is become more capable of 
drawing and receiving it from the hand ; and through the basin 
the water loses its fire that kept its fluid, so it becomes ice 
One would expect that, from all this attracted acquisition of fire 
to the composition, it should become warmer ; and, in fact, the 
snow and salt dissolve at the same time into water, without 
freezing. 



London, June 17, 1758. 

In a former letter I mentioned the experiment for cooling 
bodies by evaporation, and that I had, by repeatedly wetting 
the thermometer with common spirits, brought the mercury 
down five or six degrees. Being lately at Cambridge, and men 
tiouing this in conversation with Dr. Hadley, professor of chem- 
istry there, he proposed repeating the experiments with ether, 
instead of common spirits, as the ether is much quicker in evapo- 
ration. We accor4ingly went to his chamber, where he had 
both ether and a thermometer. By dipping first the ball of the 
thermometer into the ether, it appeared that the ether was pre- 
cisely of the same temperament with the thermometer, which 
stood then at 65 : for it made no alteration in the height of the 
little column of mercury. But when the thermometer was 
taken out of the ether, and the ether, with which the ball wag 
wet, began to evaporate, the mercury sunk several degrees. 
The wetting was then repeated by a feather that had been 
dipped into the ether, when the mercury sunk still lower. 

We continued this operation, one of us wetting the ball, and 



800 FRANKLIN'S SELECT WORKS. 

another of the company blowing on it with the bellows, to quick 
en the evaporation, the mercury sinking all the time, till it came 
down to 7, which is twenty-five degrees below the freezing point, 
when we left off. Soon after it passed the freezing point, a thin 
coat of ice began to cover the ball. Whether this was water col- 
lected and condensed by the coldness of the ball, from the 
moisture in the air, or from our breath ; or whether the feather, 
when dipped into the ether, might not sometimes go through it, 
and bring up some of the water that was under it, I am not 
certain ; perhaps all might contribute. The ice continued 
increasing till we ended the experiment, when it appeared 
near a quarter of an inch thick all over the ball, with a num- 
ber of small spicula, pointing outwards. 

From this experiment one may see the possibility of freezing 
a man to death on a warm summer's day, if he were to stand in a 
passage through which the wind blew briskly, and to be wet fre- 
quently with ether, a spirit that is more inflammable than brandy 
or common spirits of wine. 

It is but within these few years that the European philoso- 
phers seem to have known this power in nature of cooling 
bodies by evaporation. But in the East they have long been 
acquainted with it. A friend tells me there is a passage in 
Bernier's Travels through Hindostan, written near one hun- 
dred years ago, that mentions it as a practice (in travelling over 
dry deserts in that hot climate) to carry water in flasks wrapt in 
wet woollen cloths, and hung on the shady side of the camel, or 
carriage, but in the free air ; whereby, as the cloths gradually 
grow drier, the water contained in the flasks is made cool. 
They have likewise a kind of earthen pots, unglazed, which let 
the water gradually and slowly ooze through their pores, so as 
to keep the outside a little wet, notwithstanding the continual 
evaporation, which gives great coldness to the vessel, and the 
water contained in it. Even our common sailors seem to have had 
some notion of this property ; for I remember that, being at 
sea when I was a youth, I observed one of the sailors, during 
a calm in the night, often wetting his finger in his mouth, and 
then holding it up in the air, to discover, as he said, if the air 
had any motion, and from which side it came; and this he 
expected to do, by finding one side of his finger grow suddenly 
cold, and from that side he should look for the next wind , 
which I then laughed at, as a far ij. 

May not several phenomena, nitherto unconsidered or unac- 
counted for, be explained by this property ? During the hot 
Sunday at Philadelphia, in June 1750, when the thermometer 



HIS PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS. 801 

was up at 100 in the shade, and I sat in mj chamber without 
exercise, only reading or writing, with no other clothes on than 
a shirt, and a pair of long linen drawers, the windows all open, 
and a brisk wind blowing through the house, the sweat ran off 
the backs of my hands, and my shirt was often so wet as to 
induce me to call for dry ones to put on. In this situation, one 
might have expected that the natural heat of the body (96), 
added to the heat of the air (100), should jointly have created 
or produced a much greater degree of heat in the body ; but the 
fact was, that my body never grew so hot as the air that sur- 
rounded it, or the inanimate bodies immersed in the same air. 
For I remember well that the desk, when I laid my arm upon 
it; a chair, when I sat down in it; and a dry shirt out of the 
drawer, when I put it on, all felt exceedingly warm to me, as if 
they had been warmed before a fire. And I suppose a dead 
body would have acquired the temperature of the air, though a 
living one, by continual sweating, and by the evaporation of that 
sweat, was kept cold. 

May not this be a reason why our reapers in Pennsylvania, 
working in the open field, in the clear hot sunshine common in 
our harvest-time, find themselves well able to go through that 
labor, without being much incommoded by the heat, while they 
continue to sweat, and while they supply matter for keeping up 
that sweat by drinking frequently of a thin evaporable liquor, 
water mixed with rum ; but, if the sweat stops, they drop, and 
sometimes die suddenly, if a sweating is not again brought on 
by drinking that liquor, or, as some rather choose in that case, 
a kind of hot punch, made with water, mixed with honey, and a 
considerable proportion of vinegar ? May there not be in 
negroes a quicker evaporation of the perspirable matter from 
their skins and lungs, which, by cooling them more, enables them 
to bear the sun's heat better than whites do ? (if this is a fact, 
as it is said to be ; for the alleged necessity of having negroes, 
rather than whites, to work in the West India fields, is founded 
upon it) though the color of their skins would otherwise make 
them more sensible of the sun's heat, since black cloth heats 
much sooner, and more, in the sun, than white cloth. I am 
persuaded, from several instances happening within my knowl- 
edge, that they do not bear cold weather so well as the whites ; 
they will perish when exposed to a less degree of it, and are 
more apt to have their limbs frost-bitten ; and may not this be 
from the same cause ? Would not the earth grow much hotter 
under the summer sun, if a constant evaporation from its sur- 
face, greater as the sun shines stronger, did not, by tending to 
26 



302 franklin's select works. 

cool it, balance in some degree the warmer effects of the sun's 
rays ? Is it not owing to the constant evaporation from the 
surface of every leaf, that trees, thoup;h shone on by the sun, are 
always, even the leaves themselves, cool to our sense ? at least, 
much cooler than they would otherwise be ? May it not be 
owing to this that fanning ourselves when warm does really cool 
us, though the air is itself warm that we drive with the fan upon 
our faces ; for the atmosphere round, and next to our bodies, 
having imbibed as much of the perspired vapor as it can well 
contain, receives no more, and the evaporation is therefore 
checked and retarded, till we drive away that atmosphere, and 
bring drier air in its place, that will receive the vapor, and 
therefore facilitate and increase the evaporation ? Certain it is, 
that mere blowing of air on a dry body does not cool it, as any 
one may satisfy himself, by blowing with a bellows on the dry 
ball of a thermometer ; — the mercury will not fall; if it moves at 
all, it rather rises, as being warmed by the friction of the air on 
its surface. 

To these queries of imagination, I will only add one practical 
observation : that, wherever it is thought proper to give ease, in 
cases of painful inflammation of the flesh (as from burnings, or 
the like), by cooling the part, linen cloths, wet with spirit, and 
applied to the part inflamed, will produce the coolness required 
better than if wet with water, and will continue it longer. For 
water, though cold when first applied, will soon acquire warmth 
from the flesh, as it does not evaporate fast enough ; but the 
cloths wet with spirit will continue cold as long as any spirit 
is left to keep up the evaporation, the parts warmed escaping as 
soon as they are warmed, and carrying off the heat with them. 



[to miss STEVENSON.] 

SALT WATER RENDERED FRESH BY DISTILLATION — 
METHOD OF RELIEVING THIRST BY SEA-WATER. 

Craven-street, August 10, 1761. 

We are to set out this week for Holland, where we may pos- 
sibly spend a month, but purpose to be at home again before the 
coronation. I could not go without taking leave of you by a 
line at least, when I am so many letters in your debt. 

In yours of May 19, which I have before me, you speak of 
the ease with which salt water may be made fresh by distilla- 



HIS PniLOSOPIIICAL PAPERS. 308 

tlon, supposing it to be, as I had said, that in evaporation the 
air would take up water, but not the salt that was mixed with 
it. It is true that distilled sea-water will not be salt, but there 
are other disagreeable qualities that rise with the water in distil- 
lation ; which indeed several besides Dr. Hales have endeavored 
by some means to prevent, but as yet their methods have not 
been brougnr much into use. 

I have a singular opinion on this subject, which I will venture 
to communicate to you, though I doubt you will rank it among 
my whims. It is certain that the skin has imbibing as well as 
discharging pores ; witness the effects of a blistering-plaster, 
&c. I have read that a man, hired by a physician to stand by 
way of experiment in the open air naked during a moist night, 
weighed near three pounds heavier in the morning. 

I have often observed myself, that, however thirsty I may have 
been before going into the water to swim, I am never long so in 
the water. These imbibing pores, however, are very fine, — 
perhaps fine enough in filtering to separate salt from water ; for 
though I have soaked (by swimming, when a boy) several hours 
in the day for several days successively in salt water, I never 
found my blood and juices salted by that means, so as to make 
me thirsty or feel a salt taste in my mouth ; and it is remarka- 
ble that the flesh of sea-fish, though bred in salt water, is not 
gait. 

Hence I imagine, that if people at sea, distressed by thirst, 
jvhen their fresh water is unfortunately spent, would make 
bathing-tubs of their empty water-casks, and, filling them with 
sea-water, sit in them an hour or two each day, they might be 
greatly relieved. Perhaps keeping their clothes constantly wet 
might have an almost equal effect, and this without danger of 
catching cold. Men do not catch cold by wet clothes at sea. 
Damp but not wet linen may possibly give colds, but no one 
catches cold by bathing, and no clothes can be wetter than water 
itself. Why damp clothes should then occasion colds, is a 
curious question, the discussion of which I reserve for a future 
letter, or some future conversation. 



304 FRANKLIN'S SELECT WORKS. 



[to miss STEVENSON.] 

TENDIJNCY OF RIVERS TO THE SEA ~ EFFECTS OF THE 
SUN'S RAYS ON CLOTHS OF DIFFERENT COLORS. 

September 20, 1761. 

My dear Friend : It is, as you observed in our late con- 
versation, a very general opinion that all rivers ru7i into the sea, 
or deposit their waters there. 'T is a kind of audacity to call 
such general opinions in question, and may subject one to cen- 
sure. But we must hazard something in what we think the 
cause of truth ; and, if we propose our objections modestly, we 
shall, though mistaken, deserve a censure less severe than when 
we are both mistaken and insolent. 

That some rivers run into the sea is beyond a doubt : such, 
for instance, are the Amazon, and I think the Oronoco and the 
Mississippi. The proof is, that their waters are fresh quite to 
the sea, and out to some distance from the land. Our question 
is, whether the fresh waters of those rivers whose beds are filled 
with salt water to a considerable distance up from the sea (as 
the Thames, the Delaware, and the rivers that communicate with 
Chesapeake Bay in Virginia) do ever arrive at the sea ? And. 
as I suspect they do not, I am now to acquaint you with my 
reasons ; or, if they are not allowed to be reasons, my concep- 
tions at least, of this matter. 

The common supply of rivers is from springs, which draw 
their origin from rain that has soaked into the earth. The 
union of a number of springs forms a river. The waters, as they 
run, exposed to the sun, air and wind, are continually evaporat- 
ing. Hence in travelling one may often see where a river runs, 
by a long bluish mist over it, though we are at such a distance 
as not to see the river itself. The quantity of this evaporation 
is greater or less, in proportion to the surface exposed by the 
same quantity of water to those causes of evaporation. While 
the river runs in a narrow, confined channel in the upper, hilly 
country, only a small surface is exposed ; a greater, as the river 
widens. Now, if a river ends in a lake, as some do, whereby its 
waters are spread so wide as that the evaporation is equal to 
the sum of all its springs, that lake will never overflow: — and 
if, instead of ending in a lake, it was drawn into greater length 
as a river, so as to expose a surface equal in the whole to that 
lake, the evaporation would be eqnal, and such river would end 
as a canal j when the ignorant might suppose, as they actually 



HIS PniLOSOPHICAL PAPERS. 305 

do in such, cases, that the river loses itself by running under 
(ground, whereas in truth it has run up into the air. 

Now, how many rivers that are open to the sea widen much 
before they arrive at it, not merely by the additional waters 
they receive, but by having their course stopped by the opposing 
flood-tide ; by being turned back twice in twenty-four hours, and 
by finding broader beds in the low, flat countries to dilate them- 
selves in; hence the evaporation of the fresh water is propor- 
tionably increased, so that in some rivers it may equal the 
springs of supply In such cases, the salt water comes up the 
river, and meets the fresh in that part where, if there were a 
wall or bank of earth across, from side to side, the river would 
form a lake, — fuller indeed at some times than at others, accord- 
ing to the seasons, but whose evaporation would, one time with 
another, be equal to its supply. 

When the communication between the two kinds of water is 
open, this supposed wall of separation may be conceived as a 
movable one, which is not only pushed some miles higher up the 
river by every flood-tide from the sea, and carried down again 
as far by every tide of ebb, but which has even this space of 
vibration removed nearer to the sea in wet seasons, when the 
springs and brooks in the upper country are augnaented by the 
falling rains, so as to swell the river, and further from the sea in 
dry seasons. 

Within a few miles above and below this movable line of 
separation, the difierent waters mix a little, partly by their 
motion to and fro, and partly from the greater specific gravity 
of the salt water, which inclines it to run under the fresh, while 
the fresh water, being lighter, runs over the salt. 

Cast your eye on the map of North America, and observe the 
Bay of Chesapeake in Virginia, mentioned above ; you will see 
communicating with it by their mouths the great rivers Sus- 
quehanna, Potomac, Rappahannock, York and James, besides a 
number of smaller streams, each as big as the Thames. It has 
been proposed by philosophical writers, that, to compute how 
nuich water any river discharges into the sea in a given time, we 
should measure its depth and swiftness at any part above the 
tide ; as, for the Thames, at Kingston or Windsor. But can one 
imagine that if all the water of those vast rivers went to the 
sea, it would not first have pushed the salt water out of that 
narrow-mouthed bay, and filled it with fresh ? The Susque- 
hanna alone would seem to be sufiicient for this, if it were not 
for the loss by evaporation. And yet that bay is salt quite up 
to Annapolis. 

26=* 



80G FRAXKLI^'S SELECT W0UK3- 

As to our other subject, the different degrees of heat Imbibed 
from the sun's rays by cloths of different colors, since I cannot 
find the notes of my experiment to send you, I must give it as 
well as I can from memory. 

But first let me mention an experiment you may easily make 
yourself. Walk but a quarter of an hour in your garden when 
the sun shines, with a part of your dress white, and a part 
black ; then apply your hand to them alternately, and you will 
find a very great difference in their warmth. The black will be 
quite hot to the touch, the white still cool. 

Another. Try to fire the paper with a burning-glass. If it 
is white, you will not easily burn it; but, if you bring the 
focus to a black spot, or upon letters, written or printed, the 
paper will immediately be on fire under the letters. 

Thus fullers and dyers find black cloths, of equal thickness 
with white ones, and hung out equally wet, dry in the sun much 
Booner than the white, being more readily heated by the sun's 
rays. It is the same before a fire; the heat of which sooner 
penetrates black stockings than white ones, and so is apt sooner 
to burn a man's shins. Also, beer much sooner warms in a 
black muo; set before the fire than in a white one, or in a brio-ht 
silver tankard. 

My experiment was this. I took a number of little square 
pieces of broadcloth from a tailor's pattern-card, of various 
colors. There were black, deep blue, lighter blue, green, pur- 
ple, red, yellow, white, and other colors or shades of colors. I 
laid them all out upon the snow in a bright sunshiny morning. 
In a few hours (I cannot now be exact as to the time) the black, 
being warmed most by the sun, was sunk so low as to be below 
the stroke of the sun's rays ; the dark blue almost as low, the 
lighter blue not quite so much as the dark, the other colors less 
as they were lighter ; and the quite white remained on the sur- 
face of the snow, not having entered it at all. 

What signifies philosophy that does not apply to some use ? 
May we not learn from hence that black clothes are not so fit to 
wear in a hot, sunny climate or season as white ones, because 
in such clothes the body is more heated by the sun when we walk 
abroad, and are at the same time heated by the exercise, which 
double heat is apt to bring on putrid, dangerous fevers ? That 
soldiers and seamen, who must march and labor in the sun, 
should in the East or West Indies have an uniform of white ? 
That summer hats, for men or women, should be white, as re- 
pelling that heat which gives headaches to many, and to some 
the fatal stroke that the French call the coup de soleil ? That 



HIS PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS. 807 

the ladies' summer hats, however, should be lined with black, as 
not reverberating on their faces those rajs which are reflected 
upwards from the earth or water ? That the putting a white 
cap of paper or linen within the crown of a black hat, as some 
do, will not keep out the heat, though it would if placed ivithout ? 
That fruit-walls, being blacked, may receive so much heat from 
the sun in the day-time as to continue warm in some degree 
through the night, and thereby preserve the fruit from frosts, or 
forward its growth? — with sundry other particulars of less or 
greater importance, that will occur from time to time to atten- 
tive minds. 



[to tue same.] 

EFFECT OF AIK ON THE BAROMETER — THE STUDY OF 

INSECTS. 

Ckaven-street, June 11, 1760. 

'T IS a very sensible question you ask, How the air can afi'ect 
the barometer, when its opening appears covered with wood ? If 
indeed it was so closely covered as to admit of no communica- 
tion of the outward air to the surface of the mercury, the change 
of weight in the air ®ould not possibly alFect it. But the least 
crevice is sufficient for the purpose ; a pin-hole will do the 
business. And, if you could look behind the frame towhich your 
barometer is fixed, you would certainly find some small open- 
ing- 

There are indeed some barometers in which the body of mer- 
cury at the lower end is contained in a close leather bag, and so 
the air cannot come into immediate contact with the mercury ; 
yet the same efi"ect is produced. For, the leather being flexible, 
when the bag is pressed by any additional weight of air it con- 
tracts, and the mercury is forced up into the tube ; when the 
air becomes lighter, and its pressure less, the weight of the mer- 
cury prevails, and it descends again into the bag. 

Your observation on what you have lately read concerning in- 
sects is very just and solid. Superficial minds are apt to despise 
those who make that part of the creation their study, as mere 
triflers; but certainly the world has been much obliged to them. 
Under the care and manaiiement of man, the labors of the little 
silk-worm aff"ord employment and subsistence to thousands of fami- 
lies, and become an immense article of commerce. The bee, too» 



808 franklin's select works. 

yields us its delicious honey, and its wax useful to a multitude 
of purposes. Another insect, it is said, produces the cochineal, 
from whence we have our rich scarlet dye. The usefulness of 
the cantharides, or Spanish flies, in medicine, is known to all, 
and thousands owe their lives to that knowledge. By human 
industry and observation, other properties of other insects may 
possibly be hereafter discovered, and of equal utility. A 
thorough acquaintance with the nature of these little creatures 
may also enable mankind to prevent the increase of such as are 
noxious, or secure us against the mischiefs they occasion. 

These things doubtless your books make mention of: I can 
only add a particular late instance, which I had from a Swedish 
gentleman of good credit. In the green timber intended for 
ship-building at the king's yard in that country, a kind of worms 
were found, which every year became more numerous and more 
pernicious, so that the ships were greatly damaged before they 
came into use. The king sent Linnaeus, the great naturalist, 
from Stockholm, to inquire into the affair, and see if the mischief 
was capable of any remedy. He found, on examination, that 
the worm was produced from a small egg, deposited in the little 
roughnesses on the surface of the wood, by a particular kind of 
fly or beetle ; from whence the worm, as soon as it was hatched, 
began to eat into the substance of the wood, and after some time 
came out again a fly of the parent kind, and so the species in- 
creased. The season in which the fly laid its eggs Linnaeus 
knew to be about a fortnight (I think) in the month of May, and 
at no other time in the year. He therefore advised, that some 
days before that season all the green tim1)er should be thrown 
into the water, and kept under water till the season was over. 
Which being done by the king's order, the flies, missing the usual 
nests, could not increase ; and the species was either destroyed 
or went elsewhere, and the wood was effectually preserved ; for 
after the first year it became too dry and hard for their purpose. 

There is, however, a prudent moderation to be used in studies 
of this kind. The knowledge of nature may be ornamental, and 
it may be useful; but if, to attain an eminence in that, we neglect 
the knowledge and practice of essential duties, we deserve repre- 
hension. For there is no rank in natural knowledge of equal 
dignity and importance with that of being a good parent, a good 
child, a good husband or wife, a good neighbor or friend, a good 
subject or citizen, — that is, in short, a good Christian. Nicholas 
Gimcrack, therefore, who neglected the care of his family to 
pursue butterflies, was a just object of ridicule, and we must 
give him up as fair game to the satirist. 



HIS PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS. 809 

[to dr. JOSKPH PRIESTLEY.] 

EFFECT OF VEGETATION ON NOXIOUS AIR. 

That the vegetable creation should restore the air which is 
spoiled by the animal part of it. looks like a rational system, 
and seems to be of a piece with the rest. Thus fire purifies 
water, all the world over. It purifies it by distillation, when it 
raises it in vapors, and lets it fall in rain ; and further still by 
filtration, when, keeping it fluid, it sufi^'ers that rain to percolate 
the earth. We knew before that putrid animal substances were 
converted into sweet vegetables when mixed with the earth, and 
applied as manure ; and now, it seems, that the same putrid 
substances, mixed with the air, have a similar effect. The strong 
thriving state of your mint, in putrid air, seems to show that 
the air is mended by taking something from it, and not by add- 
ing to it. 

I hope this will give some check to the rage of destroying 
trees that grow near houses, which has accompanied our late im- 
provements in gardening, from an opinion of their being unwhole- 
some. I am certain, from long observation, that there is nothing 
unhealthy in the air of woods ; for we Americans have every- 
where our country habitations in the midst of woods, and no 
people on earth enjoy better health, or are more prolific. 



[to OLIVER NEALE.] 

THE ART OF SWIMMING. 

I CANNOT be of opinion with you, that it is too late in life for 
you to learn to swim. The river near the bottom of your gar- 
den affords a most convenient place for the purpose. And, as 
your new employment requires your being often on the water, 
of which you have such a dread, I think you would do well to 
make the trial ; nothing being so likely to remove those appre- 
hensions as the consciousness of an ability to swim to the shore 
in case of an accident, or of supporting yourself in the water 
till a boat could come to take you up. 

I do not know how far corks or bladders may be useful in 
learning to swim, having never seen much trial of them. Pos- 
sibly they may be of service in supporting the body while you 
are learning what is called the stroke, or that manner of draw- 



310 franklin's select works. 

ins: in and striking out the hands and feet that is necessary tc 
produce progressive motion. Bat you will be no swimmer till 
you can place some confidence in the power of the water to sup- 
port you; I would therelbre advise the acquiring that confidence 
in the first place ; especially as I have known several who, by a 
little of the practice necessary for that purpose, have insensibly 
acquired the stroke, taught as it were by nature. 

The practice I mean is this. Choosing a place where the 
water deepens gradually, walk coolly into it till it is up to your 
breast, then turn round, your face to the shore, and throw an 
eo-o- into the water between you and the shore. It will sink to 
the bottom, and be easily seen there, as your water is clear. It 
must lie in water so deep as that you cannot reach it to take it 
up but by diving for it. To encourage yourself in order to do 
this, reflect that your progress will be from deeper to shallower 
water, and that at any time you may, by bringing your legs un- 
der you, and standing on the bottom, raise your head far above 
the water. Then plunge under it with your eyes open, throwing 
yourself towards the egg, and endeavoring by the action of your 
hands and feet against the water to get forward till within reach 
of it. In this attempt you will find that the water buoys you 
up against your inclination ; that it is not so easy a thing to 
sink as you imagined ; that you cannot, but by active force, get 
down to the egg. Thus you feel the power of the water to sup- 
port you, and learn to confide in that power ; while your endeav- 
ors to overcome it, and to reach the egg, teach you the manner 
of acting on the water with your feet and hands, which action is 
afterwards used in swimming to support your head higher above 
water, or to go forward through it. 

I would the more earnestly press you to the trial of this 
method, because, though I think I satisfied you that your body 
is lighter than water, and that you might float in it a long time 
with your mouth free for breathing, if you would put yourself in 
a proper posture, and would be still and forbear struggling ; yet 
till you have obtained this experimental confidence in the water, 
I cannot depend on your having the necessary presence of mind 
to recollect that posture and directions I gave you relating 
to it. The surprise may put all out of your mind. For though 
we value ourselves on being reasonable knowing creatures, rea- 
son and knowledge seem on such occasions to be of little use to 
us ; and the brutes, to whom we allow scarce a glimmering of 
either, appear to have the advantage of us. 

I will, luwever, take this opportunity of repeating those par- 
ticulars to you w^hich I mentioned in our last conversation, as 



HIS PHILOSOPHICAL papers. 811 

by perusing them at your leisure, you may possibly imprint them 
so in your memory as on occasion to be of some use to you. 

1. That though the legs, arms, and head of a human body, 
being solid parts, are specifically something heavier than fresh 
water, yet the trunk, particularly the upper part, from its hol- 
lowness, is so much lighter than water as that the whole of the 
body taken together is too light to sink wholly under water, but 
some part will remain above, until the lungs become filled with 
water, which happens from drawing water into them instead of 
air, when a person in the fright attempts breathing while the 
mouth and nostrils are under water. 

2. That the legs and arms are specifically lighter than salt 
water, and will be supported by it ; so that a human body would 
not sink in salt water, though the lungs were filled as above, but 
from the greater specific gravity of the head. 

3. That, therefore, a person throwing himself on his back in 
salt water, and extending his arms, may easily lie so as to keep 
his mouth and nostrils free for breathing ; and by a small mo- 
tion of his hands may prevent turning, if he should perceive any 
tendency to it. 

4. That in fresh water, if a man throws himself on his back, 
near the surface, he cannot long continue in that situation but 
by proper action of his hands on the water. If he uses no such 
action, the legs and lower part of the body will gradually sink 
till he comes into an upright position, in which he will continue 
suspended, the hollow of the breast keeping the head uppermost. 

5. But if, in this erect position, the head is kept upright above 
the shoulders, as when we stand on the ground, the immersion 
will, by the weight of that part of the head that is out of water, 
reach above the mouth and nostrils, perhaps a little above the 
eyes, so that a man cannot long remain suspended in water with 
his head in that position. 

6. The body continuing suspended as before, and upright, if 
the head be leaned quite back, so that the face looks upwards, 
all the back part of the head being then under water, and its 
weight consequently in a great measure supported by it, the face 
will remain above water quite free foj breathing, will rise an 
inch higher every inspiration, and sink as much every expiration, 
but never so low that the water may come over the mouth. 

7. If, therefore, a person unacquainted with swimming, and 
falling accidentally into the water, could have presence of mind 
sufiicient to avoid struggling and plunging, and to let the body 
take this natural position, he might continue long safe from 
drowning, till perhaps help would come. For, as to the clothes, 



312 franklin's select works. 

tlieir additional weight while immersed is very inconsiderable 
the water supporting it, though, when he comes out of the water 
he would find them very heavy indeed. 

But, as I said before, I would not advise you or any one to 
depend on having this presence of mind on such an occasion, but 
learn fairly to swim ; as I wish all men were taught to do in 
Uieir youth. They would, on many occurrences, be the safer for 
having that skill, and on many more the happier, as freer from 
painfal apprehensions of danger, to say nothing of the enjoy- 
ment in so delightful and wholesome an exercise. Soldiers par- 
ticularly should, methinks, all be taught to swim ; it might be 
of frequent use, either in surprising an enemy, or saving them- 
selves. And, if I had now boys to educate, I should prefer those 
schools (other things being equal) where an opportunity was 
afforded for acquiring so advantageous an art, which, once learned, 
is never forgotten. 



[to m. dubourg.] 
BATHING AND SWIMMING.* 

I AM apprehensive that I shall not be able to find leisure 
for making all the disquisitions and experiments which would be 
desirable on this subject. I must, therefore, content myself with 
a few remarks. 

The specific gravity of some human bodies, in comparison to 
that of water, has been examined by Mr. Robinson, in the Phi- 
losophical Transactions, volume 50, page 30, for the year 1757. 
He asserts that fat persons, with small bones, float most easily 
upon the water. 

The diving-bell is accurately described in the Transactions. 

When I was a boy, I made two oval palettes, each about ten 
inches long, and six broad, with a hole for the thiimb, in order 
to retain it fast in the palm of my hand. They much resembled 
a painter's palettes. In swimming, I pushed the edges of these 
forward, and I struck the water with their flat surfaces as I drew 
them back. I remember I swam faster by means of these pal- 
ettes, but they fatigued my wrists. I also fitted to the soles of 
my feet a kind of sandals ; but I was not satisfied with them, 
because I observed that the stroke is partly given by the inside 

* This, and the four following extracts of letters to M. Dubourg, are re- 
translated from the French edition of Dr. Franklin's works. 



HIS PHILOSOPHICAL PAPEPvS. 313 

of the feet and the ankles, and not entirely with the soles of the 
feet. 

We have here waistcoats for swimming, which are made of 
double sail-cloth, with small pieces of cork quilted in between 
them. 

I know nothing of the scaphandre of M. de la Chapelle. 

I know, by experience, that it is a great comfort to a swimmer, 
who has a considerable distance to go, to turn himself sometimes 
on his back, and to vary in other respects the means of procur- 
ing a progressive motion. 

When he is seized with the cramp in the leg, the method of 
driving it away is to give to the parts affected a sudden, vigor- 
ous and violent shock ; which he may do in the air as he swims 
on his back. 

During the great heats of summer there is no danger in bath- 
ing, however warm we may be, in rivers which have been thor- 
oughly warmed by the sun. But to throw one's self into cold 
spring water, when the body has been heated by exercise in the 
sun, is an imprudence which may prove fatal. I once knew an 
instance of four young men, who, having worked at harvest in 
the heat of the day, with a view of refreshing themselves, 
plunged into a spring of cold water ; two died upon the spot, a 
third the next morning, and the fourth recovered with great 
difficulty. A copious draught of cold water, in similar circum- 
stances, is frequently attended with the same effect in North 
America. 

The exercise of swimming is one of the most healthy and 
agreeable in the world. After having swam for an hour or two 
in the evening, one sleeps coolly the whole night, even during 
the most ardent heat of summer. Perhaps, the pores being 
cleansed, the insensible perspiration increases, and occasions this 
coolness. It is certain that much swimming is the means of 
stopping a diarrhoea, and even of producing a constipation. 
With respect to those who do not know how to swim, or who are 
affected with a diarrhoea at a season which does not permit them 
to use that exercise, a*warm bath, hj cleansing and purifying 
the skin, is found very salutary, and often effects a radical cure. 
I speak from my own experience, frequently repeated, and that 
of others to whom I have recommended this. 

You will not be displeased if I conclude these hasty remarks 
by informing you that, as the ordinary method of swimming is 
reduced to the act of rowing with the arms and leo;s, and is con- 
sequently a laborious and fatiguing operation when the space of 
water to be crossed is considerable, there is a method m which a 
27 



314 franklin's select works. 

swimmer may pass to great distances with much facility, by 
means of a sail. This discovery I fortunately made by acci- 
dent, and in the following manner. 

When I was a boy I amused myself one day with flying a 
paper kite ; and, approaching the bank of a pond, which was 
near a mile broad, I tied the string to a stake, and the kite 
ascended to a very considerable height above the pond, while I 
was swimming. In a little time, being desirous of amusing my- 
self with my kite, and enjoying at the same time the pleasure 
of swimming, I returned ; and, loosing from the stake the string 
with the little stick which was fastened to it, went again into 
the water, where I found that, lying on my back and holding 
the stick in my hands, I was drawn along the surface of the 
water in a very asrreeable manner. Having then en2:ao:ed another 
boy to carry my clothes round the pond, to a place which I 
pointed out to him on the other side, I began to cross the pond 
with my kite, which carried me quite over without the least 
fatigue, and with the greatest pleasure imaginable. I was only 
obliged occasionally to halt a little in my course, and resist its 
progress, when it appeared that, by following too quick, I low- 
ered the kite too much ; by doing which occasionally, I made it 
rise again. I have never since that time practised this singular 
mode of swimming, though I think it not impossible to cross in 
this manner from Dover to Calais. The packet-boat, however, 
is still preferable. 



[to the same.] 
ON THE FREE USE OF AIR. 

Loy-DON, July 28, 1760. 
I GREATLY approvo the epithet which you give, in your letter 
of the 8th of June, to the new method of treating the small- 
pox, which you call the tonic or bracing method"; I will take 
occasion, from it, to mention a practice to which I have accus- 
tomed myself. You know the cold bath has long been in vogue 
here as a tonic ; but the shock of the cold water has always 
appeared to me, generally speaking, as too violent, and I have 
found it much more agreeable to my constitution to bathe in 
another element, — I mean cold air. With this view, I rise almost 
every morning, and sit in my chamber without any clothes what- 
ever, half an hour or an hour, according to the season, either 
reading or writing. This practiee is not in the least painful, 



HIS PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS. 316 

but, on the contrary, agreeable ; and, if I return to bed after- 
wards, before I dress myself, as sometimes happens, I make a 
supplement to my night's rest of one or two hours of the most 
pleasing sleep that can be imagined. I find no ill consequences 
whatever resulting from it, and that at least it does not injure 
my health, if it does not in fact contribute much to its preser- 
vation. I shall therefore call it for the future a bracing or taaic 
bath. 



[to the same.] 
ON THE CAUSES OF COLDS. 

March 10, 1773. 
I SHALL not attempt to explain why damp clothes occa- 
sion colds, rather than wet ones, because I doubt the fact; I 
imagine that neither the one nor the other contribute to this 
efiect, and that the causes of colds are totally independent of 
wet, and even of cold. I propose writing a short paper on this 
subject, the first moment of leisure I have at my disposal. In 
the mean time I can only say, that, having some suspicions that 
the common notion, which attributes to cold the property of stop- 
ping the pores and obstructing jjerspiration, was ill-founded, I 
engaged a young physician, who is making some experiments 
with Sanctorius's balance, to estimate the difi'erent proportions 
of his perspiration, when remaining one hour quite naked, and 
another warmly clothed. He pursued the experiment in this 
alternate manner for eight hours successively, and found his 
perspiration almost double during those hours in which he was 
naked. 



[to the abbe S0ULAVIE.*J 

THEORY OF THE EARTH. 

[Read in the American Philosophical Society, November 21, 1788.] 

PASsr, September 22, 1788. 
I RETURN the papers, with some corrections. I did not find 
coal mines under the calcareous rock in Derbyshire. I only 

* Occasioned by his sending me some notes he had taken of what I had 
aaid to him in conversation on the Theory of the Earth. I wrot« it to set 
him right in gome points wherein he had mistaken my meaning. B. F. 



316 franklin's select works. 

remarked that at the lowest part of that rocky mountain which 
was in sight there were ojster-shells mixed in the stone ; and, 
part of the high county of Derby being probably as much above 
the level of the sea as the coal mines of Whitehaven were 
below it, it seemed a proof that there had been a great boul- 
versement in the surface of that island, some part of it having 
been depressed under the sea, and other parts, which had been un- 
der it, being raised above it. Such changes in the superficial parts 
of the globe seemed to me unlikely to happen, if the earth were 
solid to the centre. I therefore imagined that the internal parts 
might be a fluid more dense, and of greater specific gravity, 
than any of the solids we are acquainted with, which, therefore, 
might swim in or upon that fluid. 

Thus the surface of the globe would be a shell, capable of 
being broken and disordered by the violent movements of the 
fluid on which it rested. And, as air has been compressed by 
art so as to be twice as dense as water, in which case, if such air 
and water could be contained in a strong glass vessel, the air 
would be seen to take the lowest place, and the water to float 
above and upon it ; and as we know not yet the degree of dens- 
ity to which air may be compressed, and M. Amontons calcu- 
lated that, its density increasing as it approached the centre, in 
the same proportion as above the surface, it would at the depth 

of leagues be heavier than gold ; possibly the dense fluid 

occupying the internal parts of the globe might be air com- 
pressed. And as the force of expansion in dense air when 
heated is in proportion to its density, this central air might 
afi"ord another agent to move the surface,"^ as well as be of use in 
keeping alive the subterraneous fires ; though, as you observe, 
the sudden rarefaction of water coming into contact without 
those fires, may also be an agent sufiiciently strong for that pur- 
pose, when acting between the incumbent earth and the fluid on 
which it rests. 

If one might indulge imagination in supposing how such a 
globe was formed, I should conceive that, all the elements in 
separate particles being originally mixed in confusion, and occu- 
pying a great space, they would (as soon as the Almighty fiat 
ordained gravity, or the mutual attraction of certain parts, and 
the mutual repulsion of others, to exist) all move to their com- 
mon centre : that the air, being a fluid whose parts repel each 
other, though drawn to the common centre by their gravity, 
would be densest towards the centre, and rarer as more remote ; 
consequently all matters lighter than the central parts of that 
air, and immersed in it, would recede from the centre, and rise 



HIS PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS. 317 

till tliej arrived at that region of the air which was of the same 
specific gravity with themselves, where they would rest ; while 
other matter, mixed with the lighter air, would descend, and the 
two meetino; would form the shell of the first earth, leaving the 
upper atmosphere nearly clear. 

The original movement of the parts towards their common 
centre would naturally form a whirl there ; which would con- 
tinue upon the turning of the new-formed globe upon its axis, 
and the greatest diameter of the shell would be in its equator. 
If by any accident afterwards the axis should be changed, the 
dense internal fluid, by altering its form, must burst the shell, 
and throw all its substance into the confusion in which we 
find it. 

I will not trouble you at present with my fancies concerning 
the manner of forming the rest of our system. Su^^erior beings 
smile at our theories, and at our presumption in making them. 
I will just mention that your observations on the ferruginous 
nature of the lava which is thrown out from the depths of our 
volcanoes gave me great pleasure. It has long been a supposi- 
tion of mine, that the iron contained in the surface of the globe 
has made it capable of becoming, as it is, a great magnet ; that 
the fluid of magnetism perhaps exists in all space ; so that there 
is a magnetical north and south of the universe, as well as of this 
globe, and that if it were possible for a man to fly from star .to 
star, he might govern his course by the compass ; that it was 
by the power of this general magnetism this globe became a 
particular magnet. In soft or hot iron the fluid of magnetism 
is naturally difi'used equally ; when within the influence of the 
magnet it is drawn to one end of the iron, made denser there, 
and rarer at the other. While the iron continues soft and hot, 
it is only a temporary magnet ; if it cools or grows hard in that 
situation, it becomes a permanent one, the magnetic fluid not 
easily resuming its equilibrium. Perhaps it may be owing to 
the permanent magnetism of this globe, which it had not at first, 
that its axis is at present kept parallel to itself, and not liable 
to the changes it formerly suffered, which occasioned the rup- 
ture of its shell, the submersions and emersions of its lands, and 
the confusion of its seasons. The present polar and equatorial 
diameters difi"ering from each other near ten leagues, it is easy 
to conceive, in case some power should shift the axis gradually, 
and place it in the present equator, and make the new equator 
pass through the present poles, what a sinking of the waters 
would happen in the present equatorial regions, and what a 
rising in the present polar regions; so that vast tracts would be 
27^ 



818 franklin's select works. 

discovered that now are under water, and others covered that 
are now dry, the water rising and sinking in the difierent ex- 
tremes near five leagues. Such an operation as this possibly 
occasioned much of Europe, and among the rest this mountain 
of Passy on which I live, — and which is composed of limestone, 
rock and sea-shells, — to be abandoned by the sea, and to change 
its ancient climate, which seems to have been a hot one. 

The globe being now become a perfect magnet, we are, per- 
haps, safe from any change of its axis. But we are still subject 
to the accidents on the surface which are occasioned by a wave 
in the internal ponderous fluid ; and such a wave is producible 
by the sudden violent explosion you mention, happening from 
the junction of water and fire under the earth, which not only 
lifts the incumbent earth that is over the explosion, but, impress- 
ing with the same force the fluid under it, creates a wave, that 
may run a thousand leagues, lifting, and thereby shaking success- 
ively, all the countries under which it passes. 

I know not whether I have expressed myself so clearly as not 
to get out of your sight in these reveries. If they occasion any 
new inquiries, and produce a better hypothesis, they will not be 
quite useless. You see I have given a loose to imagination ; 
but I approve much more your method of philosophizing, which 
proceeds upon actual observation, makes a collection of facts, 
and concludes no further than those facts will warrant. In my 
present circumstances that mode of studying the nature of the 
globe is out of my power, and therefore I have permitted myself 
to wander a little in the wilds of fancy. 

P. S. I have heard that chemists can by their art decompose 
stone and wood, extracting a considerable quantity of water 
from the one, and air from the other. It seems natural to con- 
clude from this that water and air were ingredients in their 
original composition; for m.en cannot make new matter of any 
kind. In the same manner may we not suppose that when we 
consume combustibles of all kinds, and produce heat or light, we 
do not create that heat or light, but only decompose a sub- 
stance which received it originally as a part of its composition 2 
Heat may be thus considered as originally in a fluid state ; but, 
attracted by organized bodies in their growth, becomes a part 
of the solid. Besides this, I can conceive that in the first 
assemblage of the articles of which this earth is composed each 
brought its portion of the loose heat that had been connected 
with it, and the whole, when pressed together, produced the 
internal fire that still subsists. 



HIS PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS. 319 

[to DAVID RITTENHOUSE. ] 

NEW AND CURIOUS THEORY OF LIGHT AND HEAT. 

[Read in the American Philosophi-'al Society, November 20, 1788.] 

Universal space, as far as we know of it, seems to be filled with 
II subtle fluid, whose motion or vibration is called light. 

This fluid may possibly be the same with that which, being 
attracted by and entering into other more solid matter, dilates 
the substance by separating the constituent particles, and so 
rendering some solids fluid, and maintaining the fluidity of 
others ; of which fluid when our bodies are totally deprived, 
they are said to be frozen ; when they have a proper quantity, 
they are in health, and fit to perform all their functions, — it is 
then called natural heat ; when too much, it is called fever ; and 
when forced into the body in too great a quantity from without, 
it gives pain, by separating and destroying the flesh, and is then 
called burning, and the fluid so entering and acting is called fire. 

While organized bodies, animal or vegetable, are augmenting 
in growth, or are supplying their continual waste, is not this 
done by attracting and consolidating this fluid called fire, so as 
to form of it a part of their substance? And is it not a separa- 
tion of the parts of such substance, which, dissolving its solid 
state, sets that subtle fluid at liberty, when it again makes its 
appearance as fire ? 

For the power of man relative to matter seems limited to the 
separating or mixing the various kinds of it, or changing its 
form and appearance by difi'erent compositions of it; but does 
not extend to the making or creating new matter, or annihilating 
the old. Thus, if fire be an original element or kind of matter, 
its quantity is fixed and permanent in the universe. We cannot 
destroy any part of it, or make addition to it ; we can only 
separate it from that which confines it, and so set it ^i^ liberty ; 
as when we put wood in a situation to be burnt, or transfer it 
from one solid to another ; as when we make lime by burning 
stone, a part of the fire dislodged in the fuel being left in the 
stone. May not this fluid, when at liberty, be capable of pene- 
trating and entering into all bodies, organized or not, quitting 
easily in totality those not organized, and quitting easily in part 
those which are, — the part assumed and fixed remaining till the 
body is dissolved ? 

Is it not this fluid which keeps asunder the particles of air, 
permitting them to approach, or separating them more, in pro- 
portion as its quantity is diminished or augmented ? 



820 FRANKLIN^S SELECT WORKS. 

Is it not the greater gravity of the particles of air whicli 
forces the particles of this fluid to mount with the matters to 
which it is attached, as smoke or vapor ? 

Does it not seem to have a greater affinity with water, since 
it will quit a solid to unite with that fluid, and go ofi" with it 
in vapor, leaving the solid cold to the touch, and the degree 
measurable by the thermometer ? 

The vapor rises attached to this fluid, but at a certain height 
they separate, and the vapor descends in rain, retaining but 
little of it in snow, or hail less. What becomes of that fluid ? 
Does it rise above our atmosphere, and mix with the universal 
mass of the same kind ? 

Or does a spherical stratum of it, denser, as less mixed with 
air, attracted by this globe, and repelled or pushed up only to a 
certain height from its surface by the greater weight of air, 
remain there surrounding the globe, and proceeding with it 
round the sun ? 

In such case, as there may be a continuity or communication 
of this fluid through the air quite down to the earth, is it not 
by the vibrations given to it by the sun that light appears to 
Tis ? And may it not be that every one of the infinitely small 
vibrations, striking common matter with a certain force, enters 
its substance, is held there by attraction, and augmented by 
succeeding vibrations, till the matter has received as much as 
their force can drive into it ? 

Is it not thus that the surflice of this globe is continually 
heated by such repeated vibrations in the day, and cooled by 
the escape of the heat when those vibrations are discontinued 
in the night, or intercepted and reflected by clouds ? 

Is it not thus that fire is amassed, and makes the greatest part 
of the substance of combustible bodies ? 

Perhaps, when this globe was first formed, and its original 
particles took their place at certain distances from the centre, in 
proportion to their greater or less gravity, the fluid fire, attract- 
ed towards that centre, might in great part be obliged, as lightest, 
to take place above the rest, and thus form the sphere of fire 
above supposed, which would afterwards be continually dimin- 
ishing by the substance it afforded to organized bodies, and the 
quantity restored to it again by the burning or other separating 
of the parts of those bodies. 

Is not the natural heat of animals thus produced, by sepa- 
rating in digestion the parts of food, and setting their fire at 
liberty ? 

Is it not this sphere of fire which kindles the wandering 
globes that sometimes pass through it in oui- course round the 



HIS PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS. 321 

sun, have their surface kindled by it, and burst when their in- 
cluded air is greatly rarefied by the heat on their burnino- sur- 
faces ? 

May it not have been from such considerations that the 
ancient philosojDhers supposed a sphere of fire to exist above the 
air of our atmosphere? 



[to m. duboukg.] 
ON THE PREVAILING DOCTRINES OF LIFE AND DEATH. 

Your ob-servations on the causes of death, and the experi- 
ments which you propose for recalling to life those who appear 
to be killed by lightning, demonstrate equally 3'our sagacity and 
your humanity. It appears that the doctrines of life and death 
in general are yet but little understood. 

A toad buried in sand will live, it is said, till the sand 
becomes petrified ; and then, being enclosed in the stone, it may 
still live for we know not how many ages. The facts which are 
cited in support of this opinion are too numerous, and too cir- 
cumstantial, not to deserve a certain degree of credit. As we 
are accustomed to see all the animals with which we are 
acquainted eat and drink, it appears to us difficult to conceive 
how a toad can be supported in such a dungeon ; but, if we 
reflect that the necessity of nourishment which animals expe- 
rience in their ordinary state proceeds from the continual waste 
of their substance by perspiration, it will appear less incredible 
that some animals in a torpid state, perspiring less because they 
use no exercise, should have less need of aliment ; and that 
others, which are covered with scales or shells, which stop per- 
spiration, such as land and sea turtles, serpents, and some spe- 
cies offish, should be able to subsist a considerable time without 
any nourishment whatever. 

A plant, with its flowers, fades and dies immediately, if 
exposed to the air without having its root immersed in a humid 
soil, from which it may draw a sufficient quantity of moisture 
to supplj' that which exhales from its substance and is carried 
ofl" continually by the air. Perhaps, however, if it were buried 
in quicksilver, it might preserve for a considerable space of 
time its vegetable life, its smell and color. If this be the case, 
it might prove a commodious method of transporting from dis- 
tant countries those delicate plants which are unable to sustain 



322 franklin's select WORKI:?. 

the incleinencj of the weather at sea, and which require partie 
ular care and attention. 

I have seen an instance of common flies preserved in a man- 
ner somewhat similar. They had been drowned in Madeira 
wine, apparently about the time when it was bottled in Vir- 
ginia, to be sent hither (to London). At the opening of one of 
the bottles, at the house of a friend where I then was, three 
drowned flies fell into the first glass that was filled. Having 
heard it remarked that drowned flies were capable of benig 
revived by the rays of the sun, I proposed making the experi- 
ment upon these : they were therefore exposed to the sun upon 
a sieve which had been employed to strain them out of the 
wine. In less than three hours, two of them began by degrees 
to recover life. They commenced by some convulsive motions 
of the thighs, and at length they raised themselves upon their 
legs, wiped their eyes with their fore-feet, beat and brushed 
their wings with their hind-feet, and soon after began to fly, 
finding themselves in Old England without knowing how they 
came thither. The third continued lifeless till sunset, when, 
losing all hopes of him, he was thrown away. 

I wish it were possible, from this instance, to invent a method 
of embalming drowned persons in such a manner that they 
may be recalled to life at any period, however distant ; for, 
having a very ardent desire to see and observe the state of 
America an hundred years hence, I should prefer to any ordi- 
nary death the being immersed in a cask of Madeira wine, with 
a few friends, till that time, to be then recalled to life by the 
solar warmth of my dear country ! But since, in all proba- 
bility, we live in an age too early, and too near the infancy of 
science, to hope to see such an art brought in our time to its 
perfection, I must for the present content myself with the treat 
which you are so kind as to promise me, of the resurrection of 
a fowl or a turkey-cock. 



[to JOHN INGENHOUSZ.] 

ON SMOKY CHIMNEYS.* 

At Sea, August 1785. 
Those who would be acquainted with this subject should 
begin by considering on what principle smoke ascends in any 

* This paper has been somewhat abridged from the original, as have 
others in this collection under the head of Philosophical. 



HIS nilLOSOPniCAL PAPERS. 82-^ 

chimney. At first many are apt to tliink that smoke is in its 
nature and of itself specifically lighter than air, and rises in it 
for the same reason that cork rises in water. These see no case 
why smoke should not rise in the chimney, though the room be 
ever so close. Others think there is a power in chimneys to 
draw up the smoke, and that there are difierent forms of chim- 
neys which afford more or less of this power. These amuse 
themselves with searching for the best form. The equal dimen- 
sions of a funnel in its whole length is not thought artificial 
enough, and it is made, for fancied reasons, sometinies tapering 
and narrowing from below upwards, and sometimes the con- 
trary, &c. 

A simple experiment or two may serve to give more correct 
ideas. Having lit a pipe of tobacco, plunge the stem to the 
bottom of a decanter half filled with cold water ; then, puttino^ 
a rag over the bowl, blow through it and make the smoke 
descend in the stem of the pipe, from the end of which it will 
rise in bubbles through the water ; and, being thus cooled, will 
not afterwards rise to go out through the neck of the decanter, 
but remain spreading itself, and resting on the surface of the 
water. This shows that smoke is really heavier than air, and 
that it is carried upwards only when attached to, or acted upon, 
by air that is heated, and thereby rarefied and .rendered spe- 
cifically lighter than the air in its neighborhood. 

Smoke being rarely seen but in company with heated air, 
and its upward motion being visible, though that of the rarefied 
air that drives it is not so, has naturally given rise to the error. 

I need not explain to you, my learned friend, what is meant 
by rarefied air ; but, if you make the public use you propose of 
this letter, it may fall into the htinds of some who are unac- 
quainted with the term and with the thing. These then may 
be told, that air is a fluid which has weight as well as others, 
though about eight hundred times lighter than water. That 
heat makes the particles of air recede from each other and take 
up more space, so that the same weight of air heated will have 
more bulk than equal weights of cold air which may surround 
it, and in that case must rise, being forced upwards by such 
colder and heavier air, which presses to get under it and take 
its place. That air is so rarefied or expanded by heat may be 
proved to their comprehension, by a lank blown bladder, which, 
laid before a fire, will soon swell, grow tight, and burst. 

What is it, then, which makes a smoky chimney, — that is, a 
chimney which, instead of conveying up all the smoke, dis- 
charges a part of it into the room, offending the eyes and dam- 
aging the furniture ? 



824 franklin's select works. 

Tbe causes of tliis effect, whicli have fallen under my observa- 
tion, amount to nine, differing from each other, and, therefore 
requiring different remedies. 

1. Smoky chimneys in a new house are such, frequently, from 
mere loant of air. 

Remedies. — When you find, on trial, that opening the door or 
a window enables the chimney to carry up all the smoke, you 
may be sure that want of Rir frojn without was the cause of its 
smoking. I saj from without, to guard you against a common 
mistake of those who may tell you the room is large, contains 
abundance of air, sufficient to supply any chimney, and there- 
fore it cannot be that the chimney wants air. These reasoners 
are ignorant that the largeness of a room, if tight, is in this 
case of small importance, since it cannot part with a chimney 
full of air without occasioning so much vacuum ; which it 
requires a great force to effect, and could not be borne if 
effected. 

2. A second cause of the smoking of chimneys is their open- 
ings i?i the room being too large ; that is, too wide, too high, or 
both. Architects in general have no other ideas of proportion 
in the opening of a chimney than what relate to symmetry and 
beauty respecting the dimensions of the room ; while its true 
proportion, respecting its function and utility, depends on quite 
other principles ; and they might as properly proportion the 
step in a staircase to the height of the story, instead of the 
natural elevation of men's legs in mounting. The proportion, 
then, to be regarded is, what relates to the height of the funnel. 

Remedy. — As different circumstances frequently mix them- 
selves in these matters, it is difficult to give precise dimensions 
for the openings of all chimneys. Our fathers made them gen- 
erally much too large : we have lessened them ; but they are 
often still of greater dimension than they should be, the human 
eye not being easily reconciled to sudden and great changes. If 
you suspect that your chimney smokes from the too great dimen- 
sion of its opening, contract it by placing movable boards so 
as to lower and narrow it gradually, till you find the smoke no 
longer issues into the room. The proportion so found will be 
that which is proper for that chimney, and you may employ the 
bricklayer or mason to reduce it accordingly. However, as, in 
building new houses, something must be sometimes hazarded, I 
would make the openings in my lower rooms about thirty inches 
square and eighteen deep, and those in the upper only eighteen 
inches square and not quite so deep ; the intermediate ones 
diminishing in proportion as the height of funnel diminished. 
In the larger opening, billets of two feet long, or half the com- 



HIS PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS. 325 

mon lengtli of cord-wood, may be burnt conveniently ; and for 
the smaller such wood may be sawed into thirds. Where coals 
are the fuel, the grates will be proportioned to the openings. 
The same depth is nearl}^ necessary to all, the funnels being all 
made of a size proper to admit a chimney-sweeper. If, in large 
and elegant rooms, custom or fancy should require the appear- 
ance of a large chimney, it may be formed of extensive mar- 
ginal decorations, in marble, &c. In time, perhaps, that which 
is fittest in the nature of things may come to be thought hand- 
somest. But at present, when men and wonjen in difierent 
countries show themselves dissatisfied with the forms God has 
given to their heads, waists and feet, and pretend to shape them 
more perfectly, it is hardly to be expected that they will be 
content always with the best form of a chimney. And there 
are some, I know, so bigoted to the ftmcy of a large noble open- 
ing, that rather than change it they would submit to have dam- 
aged furniture, sore eyes, and skins almost smoked to bacon. 

3. Another cause of smoky chimneys is loo short a funnel. 
This happens necessarily in some cases, as where a chimney is 
required in a low building; for, if the funnel be raised high 
above the roof, in order to strengthen its draft, it is then in dan- 
ger of being blown down, and crushing the roof in its fall. 

Remedies. — Contract the opening of the chimney, so as to 
oblige all the entering air to pass through or very near the fire; 
whereby it will be more heated and rarefied, the funnel itself be 
more warmed, and its contents have more of what may be called 
the force of levity, so as to rise strongly and maintain a good 
draft at the opening. 

Or you may in some cases, to advantage, build additional 
stories over the low building, which will support a high funnel. 

4. Another very common cause of the smoking of chimneys 
is their overpowering one another. For instance, if there be 
two chimneys in one large room, and you make fires in both of 
them, the doors and windows close shut, you will find that the 
greater and stronger fire shall overpower the weaker, and draw 
air down its funnel to supply its own demand ; which air, 
descending in the weaker funnel, will drive down its smoke, and 
force it into the room. If, instead of being in one room, the 
two chimneys are in two difierent rooms communicating by a 
door, the case is the same whenever that door is open. In a 
very tight house, I have known a kitchen chimney on the 
lowest tioor, when it had a great fire in it, overpower any other 
chimney in the house, and draw air and smoke into its room as 
3ften as the door was opened communicating with the staircase. 

28 



826 franklin's select works. 

Remedy. — Take care that every room has the means of sup- 
plying itself from without with the air its chimney may 
require, so that no one of them may be obliged to borrow from 
another, nor under the necessity of lending. A variety of these 
means have been already described. 

5. Another cause of smoking is when the tops of chimneys 
are commanded by higher buildings, or by a hill, so that the 
wind blowing; over such eminences falls like water over a dam, 
sometimes almost perpendicularly on the tops of the chimneys 
that lie in its way, and beats down the smoke contained in 
them. 

Remedy. — That commonly applied to this case is a turn-cap 
made of tin or plate iron, covering the chimney above and on 
three sides, open on one side, turning on a spindle, and which, 
being guided or governed by a vane, always presents its back 
to the current. This, I believe, may be generally effectual, 
though not certain, as there may be cases in which it will not 
succeed. Raising your funnels, if practicable, so as their tops 
may be higher, or at least equal with the commanding eminence, 
is more to be depended on. But the turning-cap, being easier 
and cheaper, should first be tried. 

6. There is another case of command, the reverse of that 
last mentioned. It is where the commanding eminence is fur- 
ther from the wind than the chimney commanded. 

Remedy. — I know of but one, which is to raise such funnel 
higher than the roof, supporting it, if necessary, by iron bars. 
For a turn-cap in this case has no effect, the dammed up air 
pressing down through it, in whatever position the wind may 
have placed its opening. 

7. Chimneys, otherwise drawing well, are sometimes made 
to smoke by the improper and inconvenient situation of a door. 

The remedies are obvious and easy. Either put an inter- 
vening screen from the wall round great part of the fireplace ; 
or, which is perhaps preferable, shift the hinges of your door, 
so as it may open the other way, and when open throw the air 
along the other wall. 

8. A room that has no fire in its chimney is sometimes filled 
with smoke, which is received at the top of its funnel, and 
descends iiito the room. 

The remedy is to have a sliding plate that will shut perfectly 
the ofi'ending funnel. 

9. Chimneys which generally draw well do nevertheless 
Bometimes give smoke into the rooms, it being driven down by 
strong ivijid"! passing over the tops of their funnels, though not 



HIS PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS. 827 

descending from any commanding eminence. This case Is most 
frequent where the funnel is short, and the opening turned from 
the wind. It is the more grievous when it happens to be a 
cold wind that produces the eflfect, because, when you most want 
yoLir fire, you are sometimes obliged to extinguish it. 

Remedies. — In some places, particularly in Venice, where 
they have not stacks of chimneys, but single flues, the custom 
is, to open or widen the top of the flue rounding in the true 
form of a funnel; which some think may prevent the efi"ect just 
mentioned, for that the wind blowing over one of the edges into 
the funnel may be slanted out again on the other side by its 
form. I have had no experience of this; but I have lived in a 
windy country, where the contrary is practised, the tops of the 
flues being narrowed inwards, so as to form a slit for the issue 
of the smoke, long as the breadth of the funnel, and only four 
inches wide. This seems to have been contrived on a supposi- 
tion that the entry of the wind would thereby be obstructed, 
and, perhaps, it might have been imagined that the whole force 
of the rising warm air being condensed, as it were, in the nar- 
row opening, would thereby be strengthened, so as to overcome 
the resistance of the wind. This, however, did not always suc- 
ceed ; for when the wind was at north-east and blew fresh the 
smoke was forced down by fits into the room I commonly sat in, 
so as to oblige me to shift the fire into another. The position 
of the slit in this funnel was, indeed, north-east and south-west. 
Perhaps, if it had lain across the wind, the efiect might have 
been difi"erent. But on this I can give no certainty. It seems 
a matter proper to be referred to experiment. Possibly a turn- 
cap might have been serviceable, but it was not tried. 

Chimneys have not been long in use in England. I formerly 
saw a book printed in the time of Queen Elizabeth, which 
remarked the then modern improvements of living, and men- 
tioned among others the convenience of chimneys. " Our fore- 
fathers," said the author, " had no chimneys. There was in 
each dwelling-house only one place for a fire, and the smoke 
went out through a hole in the roof; but now there is scarce a 
gentleman's house in England that has not at least one chimney 
in it." When there was but one chimney, its top might then be 
opened as a funnel ; and, perhaps, borrowing the form from the 
Venetians, it was then the flue of a chimney got that name. 

Such is now the growth of luxury, that in both England and 
France we must have a chimney for every room ; and in some 
nouses every possessor of a chamber, and almost every servant, 
will have a fire; so that, the flues being necessarily built in 



323 franklin's select works. 

stacks, the opening of eacli as a funnel is impracticable. This 
chano-e of manners soon consumed the fire-wood of England, and 
will soon render fuel extremely scarce and dear in France, if 
the use of coals be not introduced in the latter kingdom, as it 
has been in the former, where it at first met with opposition ; for 
there is extant in the records of one of Queen Elizabeth's Par- 
liaments a motion made by a member, reciting, " That many 
dyers, brewers, smiths, and other artificers of London, had, of 
late, taken to the use of pit-coal for their fires, instead of wood, 
which filled the air with noxious vapors and smoke, very preju- 
dicial to the health, particularly of persons coming out of the 
country; and therefore moving that a law might pass to pro- 
hibit the use of such fuel (at least during the session of Parlia- 
ment) by those artificers." 

It seems it was not then commonly used in private houses. 
Its supposed unwholesomeness was an objection. Luckily, the 
inhabitants of London have got over that objection, and now 
think it rather contributes to render their air salubrious, as they 
have had no general pestilential disorder since the general use 
of coals, when, before it, such were frequent. Paris still burns 
wood at an enormous expense, continually augmenting ; the 
inhabitants having still that prejudice to overcome. In Ger- 
many -you are happy in the use of stoves, which save fuel won- 
derfully : your people are very ingenious in the management 
of fire, but they may still learn something in that art from the 
Chinese, whose country, being greatly populous and fully culti- 
vated, has little room left for the growth of wood, and, having: 
not much other fuel that is good, have been forced upon many 
inventions, durino- a course of ages, for makinor a little fire go 
as far as possible. 

I have thus gone through all the common causes of the 
smoking of chimneys that I can at present recollect as having 
fallen under my observation ; communicating the remedies that 
I have known successfully used for the difierent cases, together 
with the principles on which both the disease and the remedy 
depend, and confessing my ignorance wherever I have been sens- 
ible of it. You will do well, if you publish, as you propose, 
this letter, to add in notes, or, as you please, such observations 
as may have occurred to your attentive mind ; and, if other 
philosophers will do the same, this part of science, though bum- 
ble, yet of great utility, may in time be perfected. For many 
years past, I have rarely met with a case of a smoky chimney 
which has not been solvable on these principles, and cured by 
these remedies, where people have been willing to apply them ; 



HIS PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS. 329 

wlucli is indeed not always the case, for many have prejudices 
in favor of the nostrums of pretending chimney doctors and 
fumists, and some have conceits and fancies of their own, which 
they rather choose to try than to lengthen a funnel, alter the 
size of an opening, or admit air into a room, however necessary ; 
for some are as much afraid of fresh air as persons in the hydro- 
phobia are of fresh water. 

I myself had formerly this prejudice, this aerophobia, as I now 
account it ; and, dreading the supposed dangerous effects of cool 
air, I considered it as an enemy, and closed with extreme caro 
every crevice in the rooms I inhabited. Experience has con- 
vinced me of my error. I now look upon fresh air as a friend ; 
I even sleep with an open window. I am persuaded that no 
common air from without is so unwholesome as the air within a 
close room that has been often breathed and not changed. Moist 
air, too, which formerly I thought pernicious, gives me now no 
apprehensions ; for, considering that no dampness of air applied 
to the outside of my skin can be equal to what is applied to and 
touches it within, my whole body being full of moisture, and 
finding that I can lie two hours in a bath twice a week, covered 
with water, which certainly is much damper than any air can 
be, and this for years together, without catching cold, or being in 
any other manner disordered by it, I no longer dread mere 
moisture, either in air or in sheets or shirts ; and I find it of 
importance to the happiness of life, the being freed from vain 
terrors, especially of objects that we are every day exposed 
inevitably to meet with. 

You physicians have of late happily discovered, after a con- 
trary opinion had prevailed some ages, that fresh and cool air 
does good to persons in the small-pox and other fevers. It is to 
be hoped that in another century or two we may all find out that 
it is not bad even for people in health. And, as to moist air, 
here I am at this present writing in a ship with above forty per- 
sons, who have had no other but moist air to breathe for six 
weeks past ; everything we touch is damp, and nothing dries, 
yet we are all as healthy as we should be on the mountains of 
Switzerland, whose inhabitants are not more so than those of 
Bermuda or St. Helena, islands on whose rocks the waves are 
dashed into millions of particles, which fill the air with damp, but 
produce no diseases, the moisture being pure, unmixed with the 
poisonous vapors arising from putrid marshes and stagnant pools, 
in which many insects die and corrupt the water. These places 
only, in my opinion, — which, however, I submit to yours, — afford 
unwholesome air ; and, that it is not the mere water contained 
28^ 



830 franklin's select works. 

in damp air, but the volatile particles of corrupted animal mat- 
ter mixed with that water, which renders such air pernicious to 
those who breathe it. And I imasrine it a cause of the same 
kind that renders the air in close rooms, where the perspirable 
matter is breathed over and over again by a number of assem- 
bled people, so hurtful to health. After being in such a situa- 
tion, many find themselves aifected by that febricula which the 
English alone call a cold^ and, perhaps from the name, imagine 
that they caught the malady by going out of the room, when it 
was in fact by being in it. 

You begin to think that I wander from my subject, and go 
out of my depth. So I return again to my chimneys. 

We have of late many lectures in experimental philosophy. 
I have wished that some of them would study this branch of 
that science, and give expermients in it as a part of their lec- 
tures. The addition to their present apparatus need not be 
very expensive. A number of little representations of rooms, 
composed each of five panes of sash-glass, framed in wood at 
the corners, with proportionable doors, and movable glass chim- 
neys, with openings of different sizes, and diiferent lengths of 
funnel, and some of the rooms so contrived as to communicate 
on occasion with others, so as to form difierent combinations, 
and exemplify difi'erent cases ; with quantities of green wax 
taper cut into pieces of an inch and half, sixteen of which, stuck 
together in a square, and lit, would make a strong fire for a lit- 
tle glass chimney, and, blown out, would continue to burn, and 
give smoke as long as desired. With such an apparatus, all the 
operations of smoke and rarefied air in rooms and chimneys 
might be seen through their transparent sides ; and the efiect of 
wind on chimneys, commanded or otherwise, might be shown by 
letting the entering air blow upon them through an opened 
window of the lecturer's chamber, where it would be constant 
while he kept a good fire in his chimney. By the help of such 
lectures our furaists would become better instructed. At pres- 
ent, they have generally but one remedy, which perhaps they 
have known effectual in some one case of smoky chimneys; and 
they apply that indiscriminately to all the other causes, without 
success, — but not without expense to their employers. 

With all the science, however, that a man shall suppose him- 
self possessed of in this article, he may sometimes meet with 
cases that may puzzle him. I once lodged in a house at Lon- 
don, which, in a little room, had a single chimney and funnel. 
The opening was very small, yet it did not keep in the smoke, 
and all attempts to have a fire in this room were fruitless. I 



HIS PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS. 331 

could not imagine the reason, till at length observing that the 
chamber over it, which had no fireplace in it, was always filled 
with smoke when a fire was kindled below, and that the smoke 
came through the cracks and crevices of the wainscot, I had 
the wainscot taken down, and discovered that the funnel which 
went up behind it had a crack many feet in length, and wide 
enough to admit my arm, — a breach very dangerous with regard 
to fire, and occasioned probably by an apparent irregular set- 
tlino; of one side of the house. The air, enterinor this breach 
freely, destroyed the drawing force of the funnel. The remedy 
would have been filling up the breach, or rather rebuilding the 
funnel ; but the landlord rather chose to stop up the chimney. 

Another puzzling case I met with at a friend's country-house 
near London. His best room had a chimney in which, he told 
me, he never could have a fire, for all the smoke came out into 
the room. I flattered myself I could easily find the cause, and 
prescribe the cure. I had a fire made there, and found it as he 
said. I opened the door, and perceived it was not want of air. 
I made a temporary contraction of the opening of the chimnev, 
and found that it was not its being too large that caused the 
smoke to issue. I went out and looked up at the top of the chim- 
ney ; its funnel was joined in the same stack with others, some 
of them shorter, that drew very well, and I saw nothing to pre- 
vent its doing the same. In fine, after every other examination 
I could think of, I was obliged to own the insufficiency of my 
skill. But my friend, who made no pretensions to such kind of 
knowledoi;e, afterwards discovered the cause himself. He o-ot to 
the top of the funnel by a ladder, and, looking down, found it 
filled with twigs and straw cemented by earth, and lined with 
feathers. It seems the house, after being built, had stood empty 
some years before he occupied it ; and he concluded that some 
large birds had taken advantage of its retired situation to make 
their nest there. The rubbish, considerable in quantity, being 
removed, and the funnel cleared, the chimney drew well and 
gave satisfaction. 

In general, smoke is a very tractable thing, easily governed 
and directed, when one knows the principles, and is well informed 
of the circumstances. You know I made it dcsceiid in my 
Pennsylvania stove. 

Much more of the prosperity of a winter country depends on 
i*he plenty and cheapness of fael than is generally imagined 
In travelling, I have observed that in those parts where the 
inhabitants can have neither wood, nor coal, nor turf, but a1 
excessive prices, the working people live in miserable hovels, ar( 



332 franklin's select works. 

rao-o-ed, and liave nothino- comfortable about them. But when 
fuel is cheap (or where they have the art of managmg it to 
advantage) they are well furnished with necessaries, and have 
decent habitations. The obvious reason is, that the working 
hours of such people are the profitable hours, and they who 
cannot aiford sufficient fuel have fewer such hours in the twenty- 
four than those who have it cheap and plenty ; for much of the 
domestic work of poor women, — such as spinning, sewing, knit- 
ting, — and of the men in those manufactures that require little 
bodily exercise, cannot well be performed where the fingers are 
numbed with cold ; those people, therefore, in cold weather, are 
induced to go to bed sooner, and lie longer in a morning, than 
they would do if they could have good fires or warm stoves to 
sit by ; and their hours of work are not sufficient to produce the 
means of comfortable subsistence. Those public works, there- 
fore, such as roads, canals, &c., by which fuel may be brought 
cheap into such countries from distant places, are of great util- 
ity ; and those who promote them may be reckoned among the 
benefactors of mankind. 

I have great pleasure in having thus complied with your re- 
quest, and in the reflection that the friendship you honor me 
with, and in which I have ever been so happy, has continued so 
many years without the smallest interruption. Our distance 
from each other is now augmented, and nature must soon put an 
end to the possibility of my continuing our correspondence ; 
but, if consciousness and memory remain in a future state, my 
esteem and respect for you, my dear friend, will be everlasting. 



MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS. 



ON SEARCHING AFTER HIDDEN TREASURES.* 

There are amongst us great numbers of honest artificers and 
laboring people, who, fed with a vain hope of growing suddenly 
rich, neglect their business almost to the ruining of themselves 
and families, and voluntarily endure abundance of fatigue in a 
fruitless search after imaginary hidden treasures. They wander 
through the woods and bushes by day, to discover the marks and 
signs; at midnight they repair to those hopeful spots with spades 
and pickaxes ; full of expectation, they labor violently, trem- 
bling at the same time in every joint through fear of certain 
malicious demons, who are said to haunt and guard the places. 
At length, a mighty hole is dug, and perhaps several cart-loads 
of earth thrown out ; but, alas, no keg or iron pot is found ! no 
seaman's chest, ornamented with Spanish pistoles or weighty 
pieces of eight ! Then they conclude that, through some mistake 
in the procedure, some rash word spoke, or some rule of art 
neglected, the guardian spirit had power to sink it deeper into 
the earth, and convey it out of his reach. Yet when a man is 
once thus infatuated, he is so far from being discouraged by ill- 
success, that he is rather animated to double his industry, and 
will try again and again, in a hundred different places, in hopes 
at last of meeting with some lucky hit, that shall at once suffi- 
ciently reward them for all their expense of time and labor. 

This odd humor of digging for money, through a belief that 
much has been hid by pirates formerly frequenting the river, has 
for several years been mighty prevalent among us ; insomuch 
that you can hardly walk half a mile out of the town on any 

♦This paper is from a series of essays entitled " The Busy Body," of 
which Franklin gives some account in his Autobiography. They are mostly 
in imitation of the Spectator, and were written when he was about twenty- 
three years of age. They are, for the most part, such " unconsidered 
trifles " as he must have taken little pride in preserving. 



334 franklin's select avorks. 

side, without observing several pits dug with that design, and 
perhaps some lately opened. Men otherwise of very good sense 
have been drawn into this practice through an overrunning de- 
sire of hidden wealth, and an easy credulity of what they so 
earnestly wished might be true ; while the rational and almost 
certain methods of acquiring riches by industry and frugality 
are neglected or forgotten. There seems to be some peculiar 
charm in the conceit of finding money, and, if the sands of the 
Schuylkill were so much mined with small grains of gold that a 
man might in a day's time, with care and application, get to- 
gether to the value of half a crown, I make no question but we 
should find several people employed there that can with ease 
earn five shillings a day at their proper trades. 

Many are the idle stories told of the private success of some 
people, by which others are encouraged to proceed ; and the 
astrologers, with whom the country swarms at this time, are 
either in the belief of these things themselves, or find their 
advantage in persuading others to believe them ; for they are 
often consulted about the critical times for digging, the methods 
of laying the spirit, and the like whimseys, which renders them 
very necessary to, and very much caressed by, the poor, deluded 
money-hunters. 

There is certainly something very bewitching in the pursuit 
after mines of gold and silver, and other valuable metals, and 
many have been ruined by it. A sea-captain of my acquaintance 
used to blame the English for envying Spain their mines of sil- 
ver, and too much despising and overlooking the advantages of 
their own industry and manufactures. " For ray part," says he, 
" I esteem the banks of Newfoundland to be a more valuable 
possession than the mountains of Potosi ; and, when I have 
been there on the fishing account, I have looked upon every cod 
pulled up into the vessel as a certain quantity of silver ore, 
which required only carrying to the next Spanish port to be 
coined into pieces of eight ; not to mention the national profit 
of fitting out and employing such a number of ships and sea- 
men." 

Let honest Peter Buckram, who has long without success 
been a searcher after hidden money, reflect on this, and be re- 
claimed from this unaccountable folly ; let him consider that 
every stitch he takes when he is on his shop-board is picking up 
a part of a grain of gold, that will in a few days' time amount 
to a pistole ; and let Faber think the same of every nail he 
drives, or every stroke with his plane ; such thoughts may make 
them industrious, and of consequence in time they may be 



niS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 33o 

wealthy. But liow absurd it is to neglect a certain profit for 
such a ridiculous whiuisey ; to spend whole days at the George 
tavern in company with an idle pretender to astrology, contriv- 
ing schemes to discover what was never hidden, and foriretting 
how carelessly business is managed at home in their absence : 
to leave their wives and a warm bed at midnight (no matter if 
rain, hail, snow, or blow a hurricane, provided that be the 
critical hour) and fatigue themselves with the violent exercise 
of digging for what they shall never find, and perhaps getting a 
cold that may cost their lives, or at least disordering themselves 
so as to be fit for no business besides for some days after ! 
Surely this is nothing less than the most egregious folly and 
madness. 

I shall conclude with the words of my discreet friend. Agri- 
cola, of Chester county, when he gave his son a good plantation : 
" My son," says he, " I give thee now a valuable parcel of land ; 
I assure thee I have found a considerable quantity of gold by 
digging there ; thee may est do the same ; but thee must care- 
fully observe this, — never to dig more than plough deep." 



ADVANTAGES OF VERACITY. 

Veritas luce clarior. 

A FRIEND of mine was the other day cheapening some trifles 
at a shopkeeper's, and after a few words they agreed on a price. 
At the tying up of the parcels he had purchased, the mistress of 
the shop told him that people were growing very hard, for she 
actually lost by everything she sold. How, then, is it possible, 
said my friend, that you can keep on your business. Indeed, 
sir, answered she, I must of necessity shut ray doors, had I not 
a very great trade. The reason, said my friend (with a sneer), 
is admirable. 

There are a great many retailers who falsely imagine that 
being historical (the modern phrase for lying) is much for their 
advantage ; and some of them have a saying, that it is a pity 
lying is a sin, it is so zcsefid iii trade ; though, if they would 
examine into the reason why a number of shopkeepers raise con- 
siderable estates, while others who have set out with better for- 
tunes have become bankrupts, they would find that the former 
made up with truth, diligence and probity, what they were 
deficient of in stock ; while the latter have been guilty of im- 



836 franklin's select works. 

posing on such customers as they found had no skill in the quality 
of their goods. 

The former character raises a credit which supplies the want 
of fortune, and their fair dealino- brinfjs them customers : whereas 
none will return to buy of him by whom he has been once im- 
posed upon. If people in trade would judge rightly, we might 
buy blindfolded, and they would save both to themselves and 
customers the unpleasantness of haggling. 

Though there are numbers of shopkeepers who scorn the mean 
vice of lying, and whose word may very safely be relied on, yet 
there are too many who will endeavor, and, backing their falsities 
with asseverations, pawn their salvation to raise their prices. 

As example works more than precept, and my sole view being 
the good and interest of my countrymen, whom I could wish to 
see without any vice or folly, I shall offer an example of the 
veneration bestowed on truth and abhorrence of falsehood among 
the ancients. 

Augustus, triumphing over Mark Antony and Cleopatra, among 
other captives who accompanied them brought to Rome a priest 
of about sixty years old. The Senate, being informed that this 
man had never been detected in a falsehood, and was believed 
never to have told a lie, not only restored him to liberty, but 
made him a High Priest, and caused a statue to be erected to 
his honor. The priest thus honored was an Egyptian, and an 
enemy to Rome ; but his virtue removed all obstacles. 

Pamphiiius was a Roman citizen whose body upon his death 
was forbidden sepulture, his estate was confiscated, his house 
razed, and his wife and children banished the Roman territories, 
wholly for his having been a notorious and inveterate liar. 

Could there be greater demonstrations of respect for truth 
than these of the Romans, who elevated an enemy to the greatest 
honors, and exposed the family of a citizen to the greatest con- 
tumely ? 

There can be no excuse for lying ; neither is there anything 
equally despicable and dangerous as a liar, no man being safe 
who associates with him ; for, he who will lie will swear to it, 
says the proverb, and such a one may endanger my life, turn my 
family out of doors, and ruin my reputation, whenever he shall 
find it his interest ; and if a man will lie and swear to it in 
his shop to obtain a trifle, why should we doubt his doing so 
when he may hope to make a fortune by his perjury ? The 
crime is in itself so mean, that to call a man a liar is esteemed 
everywhere an affront not to be forgiven. 

If any have lenity enough to allow the dealers an excuse for 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 337 

tliis bad practice, I believe tliey will allow none for the gentle- 
man who is addicted to this vice, and must look u]ion him with 
contempt. That the world does so is visible bj the derision with 
which his name is treated whenever it is mentioned. 

The philosopher Epimenides gave the Rhodians this descrip- 
tion of Truth : She is the companion of the gods, the joy of 
heaven, the light of the earth, the pedestal of justice, and the 
basis of good policy. 

Eschines told the same people that Truth was a virtue with- 
out which force was enfeebled, justice corrupted, humility be- 
came dissimulation, patience intolerable, chastity a dissembler, 
liberty lost, and pity superfluous. 

Pharmanes the philosopher told the Romans that Truth was 
the centre on which all things rested : a chart to sail by, a 
remedy for all evils, and a light to the whole world. 

Anaxarchus, speaking of Truth, said it was health incapable 
of sickness, life not subject to death, an elixir that healeth all, 
a sun not to be obscured, a moon without eclipse, an herb which 
never withereth, a gate that is never closed, and a path which 
never fatigues the traveller. 

But, if we are blind to the beauties of truth, it is astonishing 
that we should not open our eyes to the inconvenience of falsity. 
A man given to romance must be always on his guard for fear 
of contradicting and exposing himself to derision ; for the most 
historical would avoid the odious character, though it is im- 
possible, with the utmost circumspection, to travel long on this 
route without detection, and shame and confusion follow. Where- 
as he who is a votary of truth never hesitates for an answer, has 
never to rack his invention to make the sequel quadrate with 
the beginning of his story, nor obliged to burden his memory 
with minute circumstances, since truth speaks easily what it 
recollects, and repeats openly and frequently without varying 
facts, which liars cannot always do, even though gifted with a 
good memory. 



[From the Pennsylvania Gazette, Nov. 20, 1735.] 

ON TRUE HAPPINESS. 

The desire of happiness is in general so natural, that all the 
world are in pursuit of it ; all have this one tnd solely in view, 
though they take such different methods to attain it, and are so 
much divided in their notions of what it cousistg of 
29 



838 franklin's select works. 

As evil can never be preferred, and though evil is often the 
effect of our own choice, yet we never desire it but under the 
appearance of an imaginary good. 

Many things we indulge ourselves in may be considered by 
as as evils, and yet be desirable ; but then, they are only con- 
sidered as evils in their effects and consequences, not as evils at 
present, and attended with immediate misery. 

Reason represents things to us, not only as they are at present, 
but as they are in their whole nature and tendency : passion 
only regards them in the former light ; when this governs us, 
we are regardless of the future, and are only affected by the 
present. 

It is impossible for us ever to enjoy ourselves rightly, if our 
conduct be not such as to preserve the harmony and order of 
our faculties, and the original frame and constitution of our 
minds : all true happiness, as all that is truly beautiful, can only 
result from order. 

Whilst there is a conflict betwixt the two principles o? passion 
and reason, we must be miserable in proportion to the ardor of 
the struggle ; and when the victory is gained, and reason is so 
far subdued as seldom to trouble us with its remonstrances, the 
happiness we have then attained is not the happiness of our 
rational nature, but the happiness only of the inferior and sensual 
part of us ; and consequently a very low and imperfect happi- 
ness, compared with that which the other would have afforded 

TIS. 

If we reflect upon any one passion and disposition of mind 
abstracted from virtue, we shall soon see the disconnection be- 
tween that and true solid happiness. It is of the very essence, 
for instance, of envy to be uneasy and disquieted ; pride meets 
with provocations and disturbances upon almost every occasion ; 
covetousness is ever attended with solicitude and anxiety ; am- 
bition has its disappointments to sour us, but never the good 
fortune to satisfy us ; its appetite grows the keener by indul- 
gence, and all we can gratify it with at present serves but the 
more to inflame its insatiable desires. 

The passions, by being too much conversant with earthly 
objects, can never fix in us a proper composure, and acquiescence 
of mind. Nothing but an indifference to the things of this 
world, an entire submission to the will of Providence here, and 
a well-grounded expectation of happiness hereafter, can give us 
a true satisfactory enjoyment of ourselves. Virtue is the best 
guard against the many unavoidable evils incident to us ; nothing 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANECTUS PAPERS. 335 

better alleviates the weight of the afflictions, or gives a truer 
relish of the blessings of human life. 

What is without us has not the least connection with happi- 
ness, onl_y so far as the preservation of our lives and health 
depends upon it ; health of body, though so far necessary that 
we cannot be perfectly happy without it, is not sufficient to 
make us happy of itself. Happiness springs immediately from 
the mind ; health is but to be considered as a condition or cir- 
cmustance, without which this happiness cannot be tasted pure 
and unabated. 

Virtue is the best preservative of health, as it prescribes tem- 
perance, and such a regulation of our passions as is most con- 
ducive to the well-being of the animal economy. So that it is 
at the same time the only true happiness of the mind, and the 
best means of preserving the health of the body. 

If our desires are for the things of this world, they are never 
to be satisfied. If our great view is upon those of the next, the 
expectation of them is an infinitely higher satisfaction than the 
enjoyment of those of the present. 

There is no true happiness, then, but in a virtuous and self- 
approving conduct ; unless our actions will bear the test of our 
sober judgments and reflections upon them, they are not the 
actions, and consequently not the happiness, of a rational being. 



[From the Pennsylvania Gazette, Feb. 18, 1734.] 

ON SELF-DENIAL. 

It is commonly asserted that without self-denial there is no 
virtue ; and that the greater the self-denial is, the greater is the 
virtue. 

If it were said that he who cannot deny himself anything he 
inclines to, though he knows it will be to his hurt, has not the 
virtue of resolution or fortitude, it would be intelligible enough ; 
but, as it stands, the proposition seems obscure or exroneous. 

Let us consider some of the virtues singly. 

If a man has no inclination to wrong people in his dealings, — 
if he feels no temptation to it, and therefore never does it, — can 
it be said tliat he is not a just man ? If he is i just man, has he 
not the virtue of justice ? 

If to a certain man idle diversions have nothing m them that 
is tempting, and therefore he never relaxes his application to 



340 franklin's select works. 

business for tlieir sake, is he not an industrious man ; or lias he 
not the virtue of industry ? 

I might in like manner instance in all the rest of the virtues; 
but, to make the thing short, as it is certain that the more we 
strive against the temptation to any vice, and practise the con- 
trary virtue, the weaker will that temptation be, and the stronger 
will be that habit, till at length the temptation hath no force, 
or entirely vanishes, does it follow from thence that in our en- 
deavors to overcome vice we grow continually less and less virtu- 
ous, till at length we have no virtue at all ? 

If self-denial be the essence of virtue, then it follows that the 
man who is naturally temperate, just, &c., is not virtuous, but that, 
in order to be virtuous, he must, in spite of his natural inclina- 
tions, wrong his neighbors, and eat and drink, &c., to excess. 

But perhaps it may be said, by the word virtue^ in the above 
assertion, is meant merits and so it should stand ; thus without 
self-denial there is no merit, and the greater the self-denial the 
greater the merit. 

The self-denial here meant must be when our inclinations are 
towards vice, or else it would still be nonsense. 

By merit is understood desert ; and when we say a man merits, 
we mean that he deserves praise or reward. 

We do not pretend to merit anything of Grod ; for he is above 
our service, and the benefits he confers on us are the effects of his 
goodness and bounty. 

All our merit, then, is with regard to one another, and from one 
to another. 

Taking, then, the proposition as it stands : 

If a man does me a service from a natural benevolent inclina- 
tion, does he deserve less of me than another who does me the like 
kindness against his inclination ? 

If I have two journeymen, one naturally industrious, the other 
idle, but both perform a day's work equally good, ought I to give 
the latter the most wages ? 

Indeed, lazy workmen are commonly observed to be more ex- 
travagant in their demands than the industrious ; for, if they have 
not more for their work, they cannot live as well as the industrious. 
But, though it be true to a proverb that lazy folks take the most 
pains., does it follow that they deserve the most money ? If you 
were to employ servants in affairs of trust, would you pay more 
wages to one you knew was naturally honest, than for one nat- 
urally roguish, but who had lately acted honestly ; for currents 
whose natural channels are dammed up, till a new course is by 
time worn sufficiently deep, and become natui*al, are apt to break 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLA^^EOUS PAPERS. 34"'^ 

their banks If one servant is more valuable than another, ha.«5 
he not more merit than the other ? and yet this is not on account 
of superior self-denial. 

Is a patriot not praisevrorthj, if public spirit is natural to him '( 

Is a pacing horse less valuable for being a natural pacer ? 

Nor, in my opinion, has any man less merit for having in gen- 
eral naturally virtuous inclinations. 

The truth is, that temperance, justice, charity, &c., are virtues 
whether practised with or against our inclinations ; and the man 
who practises them merits our love and esteem ; and self-denial 
is neither good nor bad, but as it is applied. He that denies a 
vicious inclination is virtuous in proportion to his resolution ; but 
the most perfect virtue is above all temptation, such as the virtue 
of the saints in heaven : and he who does any foolish, indecent, 
or wicked thing, merely because it is contrary to his inclination, 
like some mad enthusiasts I have read of, who ran about in pub- 
lic naked under the notion of taking up the cross, is not prac- 
tising the reasonable science of virtue, but is lunatic. 

Newcastle, February 5. 



[From Poor Richard's Almanac, 1742.] 

RIVALSHIP IN ALMANAC-MAKING. 

CouiiTEOUS Reader : This is the ninth year of my endeavors 
to serve thee in the capacity of a calendar-writer. The encour- 
agement I have met with must be ascribed, in a great measure, 
to your charity, excited by the open, honest declaration I made 
of my poverty at my first appearance. This my brother Phi' 
lomaths could, without being conjurers, discover; and Poor 
Richard's success has produced ye a Poor Will, and a Poor 
Robin ; and, no doubt. Pool' John, &c., will follow, and we shall 
all be, in name, what some folks say we are already in fact, a 
parcel o? poor almanac-makers. 

During the course of these nine years, what buffetings have I 
not sustained ! The fraternity have been all in arms. Honest 
Titan, deceased, was raised, and made to abuse his old friend. 
Both authors and printers were angry. Hard names, and many, 
were bestowed on me. They denied me to be the author of my 
own icorks ; declared there never was any such person ; asserted 
that I was dead sixty years ago ; prognosticated my death to 
happen within a twelvemonth ; with many other malicious incon- 
29=^ 



842 franklin's select works. 

Bistencles, the effects of blind passion, envy at my success, and 
a vain hope of depriving me, dear reader, of thy wonted counte- 
nance and favor. Who k?iows him "? they cry : Where does he 
live 1 

But what is that to them ? If I delight in a private life, have 
they any right to drag me out of my retirement ? I have good 
reason for concealing the place of my abode. It is time for an 
old man, as I am, to think of preparing for his great remove. 
The perpetual teasing of both neighbors and strangers, to calcu- 
late nativities, give judgments on schemes, and erect figures, 
discover thieves, detect horse-dealers, describe the route of run- 
aways and strayed cattle ; the crowd of visitors with a thousand 
trifling questions, — Will my ship return safe ? Will my 7nare 
will the race 1 Will her next colt be a pacer ? When icill iinj 
wife die ? Who shall he my husband ? And HO W LONG 
first ? When is the best time to cut hair, trim cocks or soio sal- 
ad ? — these and the like impertinences I have now neither taste 
nor leisure for. I have had enough of them. All that these 
angry folks can say will never provoke me to tell them where I 
live — I would eat my nails first. 

My last adversary is /. / n, philomat, who declares and 

protests (in his preface, 1741) that the false jjrophecy pict in my 
almanac concerniiig him, the year before, is altogether false and 
untrue, and that I am one of Baal's false prophets. T\nQ false, 
false prophecy he speaks of, related to his reconciliation with the 
Church of Rome ; which, notwithstanding his declaring and pro- 
testing, is, I fear, too true. Two things in his elegiac verses con- 
firm me in this suspicion. He calls the first of November All- 
Hallows day. Reader, does not this smell of popery ? Does it 
in the least savor of the pure language of Friends ? But the 
plainest thing is, his adoration of saints, which he confesses to be 
his practice, in these words, page 4 : 

" When any trouble did me befall. 
To my dear Mary then I would call." 

Did he think the whole world were so stupid as not to take no- 
tice of this ? So ignorant as not to know that all Catholics pay 
the highest regard to the Virgin Mary ? Ah ! friend John, we 
must allow you to be a poet, but you are certainly no Protestant. 
I could heartily wish your religion was as good as your verses. 

Richard Saunders. 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 843 



THE WASTE OF LIFE. 

Anergus was a gentleman of a good estate ; he was bred to no 
business, and could not contrive how to waste his hours agreea- 
bly. He had no relish for any of the proper works of life, nor any 
taste at all for the improvements of the mind ; he spent generally 
ten hours of the four-and-twenty in his bed ; he dozed away two 
or three more on his couch, and as many were dissolved in good 
liquor every evening, if he met with company of his own humor. 
Five or six of the next he sauntered away with much indolence : 
the chief business of them was to contrive his meals, and to feed his 
fancy beforehand with the promise of a dinner and supper ; not 
that he was so very a glutton, or so entirely devoted to appetite ; 
but chiefly because he knew not how to employ his thoughts bet- 
ter, he let them rove about the sustenance of his body. Thus he 
haa made a shift to wear off ten years since the paternal estate 
fell into his hands ; and yet, according to the abuse of words in 
our day, he was called a man of virtue, because he was scarce 
ever known to be quite drunk, nor was his nature much inclined 
to lewdness. 

One evening, as he was musing along, his thoughts happened to 
take a most unusual turn ; for they cast a glance backward, and 
began to reflect on his manner of life. He bethought himself 
what a number of living beings had been made a sacrifice to support 
his carcass, and how much corn and wine had been mingled with 
those offerings. He had not quite lost all the arithmetic that he 
learned when he was a boy, and he set himself to compute what 
he had devoured since he came to the age of man. 

" About a dozen feathered creatures, small and great, have, one 
week with another," said he, " given up their lives to prolong mine, 
which in ten years amounts to at least six thousand. 

" Fifty sheep have been sacrificed in a year, with half a heca- 
tomb of black cattle, that I might have the choicest part offered 
weekly upon my table. Thus a thousand beasts out of the flock 
and the herd have been slain in ten years' time to feed me, be- 
sides what the forest has supplied me with. Many hundreds of 
fishes have, in all their varieties, been robbed of life for my repast, 
and of the smaller fry as many thousands. 

" A measure of corn would hardly afford fine flour enough 
for a month's provision, and this arises to above six score bush- 
els ; and many hogsheads of ale and wine, and other liquors^ 
have passed through this body of mine, this wretched strainer of 
meat and drink. 



844 franklin's select works. 

" And wliat have I done, all tins time, for God or man ? What 
a vast profusion of good things upon an useless life and a worth- 
less liver ! There is not the meanest creature among all these 
■which I have devoured but hath answered the end of its crea- 
tion better than I. It was made to support human nature, and 
it hath done so. Every crab and oyster I have eat, and every 
grain of corn I have devoured, hath filled up its place in the rank 
of beings with more propriety and honor than I have done. O, 
shameful waste of life and time ! " 

In short, he carried on his moral reflections with so just and 
severe a force of reason, as constrained him to change his whole 
course of life, to break oflT his follies at once, and to apply him- 
self to gain some useful knowledge, when he was more than thirty 
years of age ; he lived many following years, with the character 
of a worthy man, and an excellent Christian ; he performed the 
kind ofiices of a good neighbor at home, and made a shining figure 
as a patriot in the senate-house ; he died with a peaceful con- 
science, and the tears of his couDtry were dropped upon his tomb. 

The world, that knew the whole series of his life, stood amazed 
at the mighty change. They beheld him as a wonder of reform- 
ation, while he himself confessed and adored the divine power 
and mercy, which had transformed him from a brute to a man. 

But this was a single instance ; and we may almost venture to 
write MIRACLE upon it. Are there not numbers of both sexes, 
among our young gentry, in this degenerate age, whose lives thus 
run to utter waste, without the least tendency to usefulness ? 

When I meet with persons of such a worthless character as 
thisj it brings to my mind some scraps of Horace : 

" Nos numerus sumus, et fruges consumere nati. 

Alcinoique Juventus 

Cui pulchrum fuit in Medios dormire dies," <fce. 

PARAPHRASE. 

" There are a number of us creep 
Into this world, to eat and sleep ; 
And know no reason why they 're born 
But merely to consume the corn. 
Devour the cattle, fowl and fish. 
And leave behind an empty dish : 
Though crows and ravens do the same. 
Unlucky birds of hateful name ; 
Ravens or crows might fill their places. 
And swallow corn or carcasses. 
Then, if their tomb-stone, when they die, 
Ben't taught to flatter and to lie, 
There 's nothing better will be said, 
Than that they 've eat up all their bread, 
Drank up all their drink, and gone to bed." 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 845 

There are other fragments of that heathen poet, which occur on 
such occasions • one in the first of his satires, the other in the 
last of his epistles, which seem to represent life only as a season 
of luxury : 

-Exacto cootentus tempore vitaj 



Cedat uti conviva satur- 

Lusisti satus, edisti satis atque bibisti ; 

Tempus abire tibi " 



WVich may be thus put into English : 



" Life 's but a feast : and when we die, 
Horace would say, if he were by, 
Friend, thou hast eat and drank enough, 
'T is time now to be marching off : 
Then like a well-fed guest depart. 
With cheerful looks and ease at heart. 
Bid all your friends good-night, and say 
You 've done the business of the day." 



[From the Pennsylvania Gazette, June 23, 1Y30.] 

DIALOGUE I. 

BETWEEN PHILOCLES AXD HORATIO, MEETING ACCIDENTALLY IN THE 
FIELDS, CONCERNING VIRTUE AND PLEASURE. 

Philodcs. My friend Horatio ! I am very glad to see you ; 
prithee how came such a man as you alone ? and musing too ? 
What misfortune in your pleasures has sent you to philosophy 
for relief? 

Horatio. You guess very right, m}^ dear Philocles : we pleas- 
ure-hunters are never without them ; and yet, so enchanting is 
the game, we cannot quit the chase. How calm and undisturbed 
is your life, how free from present embarrassments and future 
cares ! I know you love me, and look with compassion upon my 
conduct : show me, then, the path which leads up to that constant 
and invariable good, which I have heard you so beautifully 
describe, and which you seem so fully to possess. 

PhU. There are few men in the world I value more than you, 
Horatio ; for, amidst all your foibles, and painful pursuits of 
pleasure, I have oft observed in you an honest heart, and a mind 
strongly bent towards virtue. I wish, from my soul, I could 
assist you in acting steadily the part of a reasonable creature : 
for, if you would not think it a paradox, I should tell you Hove 
you better than you do yourself. 



346 franklin's select wokks. 

Hot. a paradox, indeed ! Better than I do myself ! when J 
love my dear self so well, that I love everything else for my 
own sake. 

Phil. He only loves himself well who rightly and judiciously 
loves himself. 

Hor. What do you mean by that, Philocles ? You men of 
reason and virtue are always dealing in mysteries, though you 
lauo^ at them when the church makes them. I think he loves 
himself very well, and very judiciously too, as you cidi it, who 
allows himself to do whatever he pleases. 

Phil. What ! though it be to the ruin and destiniction of that 
very self which he loves so well ? That man alone loves himself 
rightly who procures the greatest possible good to himself 
throu'T-h the whole of his existence, and so pursues pleasure as 
not to give for it more than it is worth. 

Hor. That depends all upon opinion. Who shall judge what 
the pleasure is worth ? Suppose a pleasing form of the fair 
kind strikes me so much that I can enjoy nothing without the 
enjoyment of that one object? Or, that pleasure in general is 
so favorite a mistress, that I will take her as men do their 
wives, for better, for worse, — minding no consequences, nor 
rcfyardiug what is to come ? Why should I not do it ? 

Phil. Suppose, Horatio, that a friend of yours entered into 
the world, about two-and-twenty, with a healthful, vigorous body, 
and a fair, plentiful estate of about five hundred pounds a year ; 
and yet, before he had reached thirty, should, by following his 
pleasures, and not, as you say, duly regardmg consequences, 
have run out of his estate, and disabled his body to that degree 
that he had neither the means nor capacity of enjoyment left, 
nor anything else to do but wisely shoot himself through the 
head to be at rest, — what would you say to this unfortunate 
man's conduct ? Is it wrong by opinion or fancy only, or is there 
really a right and wrong in the case ? Is not one opinion of life 
and action juster than another, or one sort of conduct prefer- 
able to another? Or, does that miserable son of pleasure 
appear as reasonable and lovely a being, in your eyes, as a man 
who, by prudently and rightly gratifying his natural passions, 
had preserved his body in full health, and his estate entire, and 
enjoyed both to a good old age, and then died with a thankful 
heart for the good things he had received, and with an entire 
submission to the will of Him who first called him into being ? 
Say, Horatio ! are these men equally wise and happy ? And is 
everything to be measured by mere fancy and opinion, without 
considering whether that fancy or opinion be right ? 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 347 

Ho?\ Hardly so, neither, I think; yet sure the wise and good 
Author of nature could never make us to plague us. He could 
never give us passions, on purpose to subdue and conquer them ; 
or produce this self of mine, or any other self, only that it may 
be denied ; for that is denying the works of the great Creator 
himself. Self-denial, then, which is what I suppose you mean by 
prudence, seems to me not only absurd, but very dishonorable 
to that supreme wisdom and goodness which is supposed to make 
so ridiculous and contradictory a creature, that must be always 
fighting with himself in order to be at rest, and undergo volun- 
tary hardships in order to be happy. Are we created sick, only to 
be commanded to be sound ? Are we born under one law, our 
passions, and yet bound to another, that of reason ? Answer 
me, Philocles, for I am warmly concerned for the honor of 
nature, the mother of us all. 

Phil. I find, Horatio, my two characters have frighted you ; 
so that you decline the trial of what is good by reason, and had 
rather make a bold attack upon Providence ; the usual way of 
you gentlemen of fashion, who, when, by living in defiance of 
the eternal rules of reason, you have plunged yourself into a 
thousand difficulties, endeavor to make yourselves easy by 
throwing the burden upon nature. You are, Horatio, in a very 
miserable condition indeed ; for you say you cannot be happy if 
you control your passions, and you feel yourself miserable by an 
unrestrained gratification of them ; so that here is evil, irreme- 
diable evil, either way. 

Hor. That is very true, — at least, it appears so to me. Pray 
what have you to say, Philocles, in honor of nature or Provi- 
dence ? Methinks, I am in pain for her ; how do you rescue her ? 
poor lady ! 

Phil. This, my dear Horatio, I have to say : that what you find 
fault with and clamor against as the most terrible evil in the 
world, self-denial, is really the greatest good, and the highest 
self-gratification. If indeed you use the word in the sense of 
some weak, sour moralists, and much weaker divines, you will 
have just reason to laugh at it ; but, if you take it as under- 
stood by philosophers, and men of sense, you will presently see 
her charms, and fly to her embraces, notwithstanding her demure 
looks, as absolutely necessary to produce even your own darling 
sole good, pleasure ; for self-denial is never a duty, or a reason- 
able action, but as it is a natural means of procuring more pleas- 
ure than you can taste without it ; so that this grave, saint-like 
guide to happiness, as rough and dreadful as she has been made 



348 franklin's select works. 

to appear, is in trutli the kindest and most beautiful mistress in 
the world. 

Hor. Prithee, Philocles, do not wrap yourself in allegory 
and metaphor : why do you tease me thus? I long to be satis- 
fied what is this philosophical self-denial — the necessity and rea- 
son of it ; I am impatient, and all on fire. Explain, therefore, in 
your beautiful, natural, easy way of reasoning, what I am to un- 
derstand by this grave lady of yours, with so forbidding, down- 
cast looks, and yet so absolutely necessary to my pleasures. I 
stand ready to embrace her ; for, you know, pleasure I court 
under all shapes and forms. 

Phil. Attend, then, and you will see the reason of this philo- 
sophical self-denial. There can be no absolute perfection in any 
creatm-e, because every creature is derived from something of a 
superior existence, and dependent on that source for its own 
existence; no created being can be all-wise, all-good, and all- 
powerful, because his powers and capacities are finite and 
limited; consequently, whatever is created must, in its own 
nature, be subject to error, irregularity, excess, and imperfect- 
ness. All intelligent rational agents find in themselves a power 
of judo-ing what kind of beings they are, what actions are 
proper to preserve them, and what consequences will generally 
attend them ; what pleasures they are formed for, and to what 
deo"ree their natures are capable of receiving them. All we 
have to do, then, Horatio, is to consider, when we are surprised 
with a new object, and passionately desire to enjoy it, whether 
the gratifying that passion be consistent with the gratifying other 
passion and appetites, equal, if not more necessary to us. And 
whether it consists with our happiness to-morrow, next week, or 
next year ; for, as we all wish to live, we are obliged, by rea- 
son, to take as much care for our future as our present hap- 
piness, and not build one upon the ruins of the other ; but, if 
through the strength and power of a present passion, and through 
want of attending to consequences, we have erred and exceeded 
the bounds which nature or reason have set us, we are then, for 
our own sakes, to refrain or deny ourselves a present moment- 
ary pleasure, for a future constant and durable one; so that 
this philosophical self-denial is only refusing to do an action 
which you strongly desire, because it is inconsistent with your 
health, convenience, or circumstances in the world : or, in other 
words, because it would cost you more than it was worth. You 
would lose by it, as a man of pleasure. Thus you see, Horatio, 
that self-denial is not only the most reasonable, but the most 
pleasant thing in the world. 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 349 

Hor. We are just coming into town, so that we cannot pursue 
this argument any further at present. You have said a great deal 
for Nature, Providence and Reason : happy are they who can 
follow such divine guides ! 

Fh'd. Horatio, good-night : I wish you wise in your pleasures. 

Hor. I wish, Philocles, I could be as wise in my pleasures as 
you are pleasantly wise. Your wisdom is agreeable, your virtue 
is amiable, and your philosophy the highest luxury. Adieu, 
thou enchanting reasoner ! 



[From the Pennsylvania Gazette^ July 9, 1730.] 

DIALOGUE II. 

BETWEEN PHILOCLES AND HOKATIO, CONCERNING VIRTUE AND PLEASURE 

Philocles. Dear Horatio, where hast thou been, these three or 
four months? What new adventures have you fallen upon since 
I met you in these delightful, all-inspiring fields, and wondered 
how such a pleasure-hunter as you could bear being alone ? 

Horatio. 0, Philocles ! thou best of friends, because a friend to 
reason and virtue ! I am very glad to see you : do not you remember 
I told you then that some misfortunes in my pleasures had sent 
me to philosophy for relief? But now, I do assure you, I can, 
without a sigh, leave other pleasures for those of philosophy : I 
can hear the word reason mentioned, and virtue praised, with- 
out laughing. Do not I bid fair for conversion, think you? 

Phil. Very fair, Horatio ; for I remember the time when 
reason, virtue and pleasure, were the same thing with you : 
when you counted nothing good but what pleased, nor any 
thing reasonable but what you gained by ; when you made a 
jest of a mind, and the pleasures of reflection ; and elegantly 
placed your sole happiness, like the rest of the animal creation, 
in the gratification of sense. 

Hor. I did so ; but, in our last conversation, when walking 
upon the brow of this hill, and looking down on that broad, 
rapid river, and yon widely-extended, beautifully-varied plain, 
you taught me another doctrine : you showed me that seif-denial, 
which above all things I abhorred, was really the greatest good, 
and the highest self-gratification, and absolutely necessary to 
produce even my own darling sole good, Pleasure. 

Phil. True : I told you that self-denial was never a duty but 
30 



350 franklin's select works. 

when it was a natural means of procuring more pleasure than 
we could taste without it : that, as we all strongly desire to live, 
and to live only to enjoy, we should take as much care about our 
future as our present happiness, and not build one upon the 
ruins of the other : that we should look to the end, and regard 
consequences : and if, through want of attention, we had erred, 
and exceeded the bounds which nature had set us, we were then 
obliged, for our own sakes, to refrain or deny ourselves a pres- 
ent momentary pleasure, for a future constant and durable 
good. 

Hor. You have shown, Philocles, that self-denial, which 
weak or interested men have rendered the most forbidding, is 
really the most delightful and amiable, the most reasonable and 
pleasant thing in the world. In a word, if I understand you 
aright, self-denial is, in truth, self-recognizing, self-acknowledg- 
ing, or self-owning. But now, my friend, you are to perform 
another promise, and show me the path which leads up to that 
constant durable and invariable good, which I have heard you 
so beautifully describe, and which you seem so fully to possess. 
Is not this good of yours a mere chimera? Can anything be 
constant in a world which is eternally changing, and which appears 
to exist by an everlasting revolution of one thing into another, and 
where everything without us and everything within us is in. per- 
petual motion ? What is this constant durable good, then, of yours ? 
Prithee satisfy my soul ; for I am all on fire, and impatient to 
enjoy her. Produce this eternal blooming goddess, with never- 
fading charms, and see whether I will not embrace her with as 
much eagerness and rapture as you. 

Phil. You seem enthusiastically warm, Horatio ; I will wait 
till you are cool enough to attend to the sober, dispassionate 
voice of reason. 

Hor. You mistake me, my dear Philocles ; my warmth is not 
so great as to run away with my reason : it is only just raised 
enough to open my faculties, and fit them to receive those 
eternal truths, and that durable good, which you so triumphantly 
boast of. Begin, then, — I am prepared. 

Phil. I will, I believe ; Horatio, with all your scepticism about 
you, you will allow that good to be constant which is never 
absent from you, and that to be durable which never ends but 
with your being. 

Hor. Yes, — goon. 

Phil. That can never be the good of a creature which when 
present the creature may be miserable, and when absent is cer- 
tainly so. 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. S51 

Hor. I tliink not ; but praj explain what you mean, for 1 
am not much used to this abstract way of reasoning. 

Fhil. I mean all the pleasures of sense. The good of man 
pannot consist in the mere pleasures of sense ; because, when 
any one of those objects which you love is absent, or cannot be 
come at, you are certainly miserable ; and, if the fjiculty be 
impaired, though the object be present, you cannot enjoy it. So 
that this sensual good depends upon a thousand things without 
and within you, and all out of your power. Can this, then, be 
the good of man ? Say, Horatio, what think you, — is not this a 
checkered, fleeting, fantastical good ? Can that, in an}^ propriety 
of speech, be called the good of man, which, even while he is 
tasting, he may be miserable ; and which, when he cannot taste, 
he is necessarily so ? Can that be our good which costs us a 
great deal of pains to obtain, which cloys in possessing, for 
which we must wait the return of appetite before we can enjoy 
again ? Or, is that our good which we can come at without 
difficulty, which is heightened by possession, which never ends 
in weariness and disappointment, and which the more we enjoy 
the better qualified we are to enjoy on ? 

Hor. The latter, I think ; but why do you torment me thAs ? 
Philocles, show me this good immediately. 

Pkil. I have showed you what it is not ; it is not sensual, but 
it is rational and moral good. It is doing all the good we can 
to others by acts of humanity, friendship, generosity and benev- 
olence : this is that constant and durable good, which will afford 
contentment and satisfaction always alike, without variation or 
diminution. I speak to your experience now, Horatio. Did 
you ever find yourself weary of relieving the miserable, or of 
raising the distressed into life or happiness ? Or, rather, do not 
you find the pleasure grow upon you by repetition, and that it 
is greater in reflection than in the act itself? Is there a pleas- 
ure upon earth to be compared with that which arises from the 
sense of making others happy ? Can this pleasure ever be 
absent, or ever end but with your being ? Does it not always 
accompany you ? Doth not it lie down and rise with you, live 
as long as you live, give you consolation in the article of death, 
and remain with you in that gloomy hour when all other things 
are going to forsake you, or you them ? 

Hor. How glowingly you paint, Philocles I Methinks Horatio 
is amongst the enthusiasts. I feel the passion, I am enchant- 
ingly convinced ; but I do not know why, overborne by some- 
thing stronger than reason. Sure, some divinity speaks within 
me ; but prithee, Philocles, give me coolly the cause why thi;i 



352 franklin's select works. 

rational and moral good so infinitely excels the mere natural oi 
sensual. 

Phil. I think, Horatio, that I have clearly shown you tho 
difference between merely natural or sensual good and rational 
or moral good. Natural or sensual pleasure continues no longer 
than the action itself; but this divine or moral pleasure con- 
tinues when the action is over, and swells and grows upon your 
hand by reflection : the one is inconstant, unsatisfying, of short 
duration, and attended with numberless ills; the other is con- 
stant, yields full satisfaction, is durable, and no evils preceding, 
accompanying or following it. But, if you inquire further into 
the cause of this difference, and would know why the moral 
pleasures are greater than the sensual, perhaps the reason is the 
same as in all other creatures, — that their happiness or chief good 
consists in acting up to their chief faculty, or that faculty which 
distinguishes them from all creatures of a different species. The 
chief fliculty in man is his reason ; and, consequently, his chief 
good, or that which may be justly called his good, consists not 
merely in action, but in reasonable action. By reasonable actions 
we understand those actions which are preservative of the human 
kind, and naturally tend to produce real and unmixed happiness ; 
and these actions, by way of distinction, we call actions morally 
good. 

Hor. You speak very clearly, Philocles ; but, that no diffi- 
culty may remain upon your mind, pray tell me what is the real 
difference between natural good and evil and moral good and 
evil ; for I know several people who use the terms without ideas. 

Phil. That may be : the difference lies only in this, — that 
natural good and evil are pleasure and pain, moral good and 
evil are pleasure or pain produced with intention and design. 
For, it is the intention only that makes the agent morally good 
or bad. 

Hor. But may not a man, with a very good intention, do an 
evil action ? 

Phil. Yes; but then he errs in his judgment, though his 
design be good. If his error is invincible, or such as, all things 
considered, he could not help, he is inculpable ; but, if it arose 
through want of diligence in forming his judgment about the 
nature of human actions, he is immoral and culpable. 

Hor. I find, then, that, in order to please ourselves rightly, or 
to do good to others morally, we should take gi-eat care of our 
opinions. 

Phil. Nothing concerns you more ; for, as the happiness or 
real good of men consists in right action, and right action can- 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 358 

not be produced without right opinion, it behoves us, above all 
things in this world, to take care that our own opinions oi 
things be according to the nature of things. The foundation of 
all virtue and happiness is thinking rightly. He who sees an 
action is right, — that is, naturally tending to good, — and does it 
because of that tendency, he only is a moral man ; and he alone 
is capable of that constant, durable and invariable good, which 
has been the subject of this conversation. 

Hor. How, my dear philosophical guide, shall I be able to 
know, and determine certainly, what is right and wrong in life ? 

Phil. As easily as you distinguish a circle from a square, or 
light from darkness. Look, Horatio, into the sacred book of 
nature ; read your own nature, and view the relation which 
other men stand in to you and you to them, and you will imme- 
diately see what constitutes human happiness, and consequently 
what is right. 

Hor. We are just coming into town, and can say no more at 
present. You are my good genius, Philocles : you have showed 
me what is good ; you have redeemed me from the slavery and 
misery of folly and vice, and made me a free and happy being. 

Phil. Then am I the ha23piest man in the world. Be you 
steady, Horatio; never depart from reason and virtue. 

Hor. Sooner will I lose my existence. Grood-night, Philocles. 

Phil. Adieu, dear Horatio. 



POOR RICHARD'S ALMANAC. 

THE WAY TO WEALTH, AS CLEARLY SHOWN IX THE PREFACE OP 

AN OLD PENNSYLVANIA ALMANAC, ENTITLED, " POOR 

RICHARD IMPROVED." '^ 

Courteous E-eader : I have heard that nothing gives an 
author so great pleasure as to find his works respectfully quoted 
by others. Judge, then, how much I must have been gratified 
by an incident I am going to relate to you. I stopped my horse, 
lately, where a great number of people were collected, at an 

* Dr. Franklin for many yeai'S published the Pennsylvania AlmanaCj 
purporting to be the work o{ Richard Sainiders, and furnished it with various 
sentences and proverbs, having relation chielly to " industry, attention to 
one's own business, and frugality." These sentences and proverbs ho col- 
lected and digested in the above preface. 

30=^ 



354 franklin's select works. 

auction of merchant's goods. The hour of the sale not being 
come, they were conversing on the badness of the times ; and 
one of the company called to a plain, clean old man, with white 
locks, " Pray, Father Abraham, what think you of the times ? 
Will not these heavy taxes quite ruin the country ? How shall 
we ever be able to pay them ? What would you advise us to do ? '' 

Father Abraham stood up, and replied, " If you would have 
my advice, I will give it to you in short ; ' for a word to the wise 
is enough,' as poor Richard says." 

They joined in desiring him to speak his mind; and, gathering 
round him, he proceeded as follows : 

" Friends," says he, " the taxes are, indeed, very heavy, and, 
if those laid on by the government were the only ones we had to 
pay, we might more easily discharge them ; but we have many 
others, and much more grievous to some of us. We are taxed 
twice as much by our idleness, three times as much by our pride, 
and four times as much by our folly ; and from these taxes the 
commissioners cannot ease or deliver us, by allowing an abate- 
ment. However, let us hearken to good advice, and something 
may be done for us. ' God helps them that help themselves,' as 
poor Richard says. 

" 1. It would be thought a hard government that should tax 
its people one-tenth part of their time, to be employed in its 
service ; but idleness taxes many of us much more ; sloth, by 
bringing on diseases, absolutely shortens life. ' Sloth, like 
rust, consumes faster than labor wears, while the used key is 
always bright,' as poor Richard says. ' But dost thou love life ? 
then do not squander time, for that is the stuff life is made of,' 
as poor Richard says. How much more than is necessary do we 
spend in sleep ! forgetting that ' the sleeping fox catches no 
poultry, and that there will be sleeping enough in the grave,' as 
poor Richard says. 

«' ' If time be of all things the most precious, wasting time 
must be,' as poor Richard says, 'the greatest prodigality;' 
since, as he elsewhere tells us, 'lost time is never found again, 
and what we call time enough always proves little enough.' Let 
us then up and be doing, and doing to the purpose ; so by dili- 
gence shall we do more with less perplexity. ' Sloth makes all 
things difficult, but industry all easy ; and he that riseth late 
must trot all day and shall scarce overtake his business at 
night ; while laziness travels so slowly, that poverty soon over- 
takes him. Drive thy business, let not that drive thee ; and 
early to bed, and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy^ 
and wise,' as poor Richard says. 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 355 

" So what signifies wisliing and hoping for better times ? We 
may make these times better, if we bestir ourselves. ' Industry 
need not wish, and he that lives upon hope will die fasting. 
There are no gains without pains ; then help hands, for I have 
no lands,' 0'% if I have, they are smartly taxed. ' He that hath 
a trade hatn an estate ; and, he that hath a calling hath an 
office of profit and honor,' as poor Richard says. But then 
the trade must be worked at, and the calling well followed, or 
neither the estate nor the office will enable us to pay our taxes. 
If we are industrious, we shall never starve ; for, ' at the work- 
ing-man's house hunger looks in, but dares not enter.' Nor will 
the bailiff or the constable enter; for ' industry pays debts, while 
despair increaseth them.' What though you have found no 
treasure, nor has any rich relation left you a legacy; ' diligence 
is the mother of good luck, and God gives all things to industry. 
Then plough deep, while sluggards sleep, and you shall have corn 
to sell and to keep.' Work while it is called to-day; for you 
know not how much you may be hindered to-morrow. ' One 
to-day is worth two to-morrows,' as poor Richard says ; and, 
further, ' never leave that till to-morrow which you can do to-day.' 
If you were a servant, would you not be ashamed that a good 
master should catch you idle? Are you then your own masters? 
Be ashamed to catch 3"ourself idle, when there is so much to be 
done for yourself, your family, your country, and your king. 
Handle your tools without mittens ; remember that ' the cat in 
gloves catches no mice,' as poor Richard says. It is true, there 
is much to be done, and perhaps you are weak-handed; but stick 
to it steadily, and you will see great efi"ects, for ' constarit drop- 
ping wears away stones ; and, by diligence and patience the 
mouse ate in two the cable ; and little strokes fell great oaks.' 

" Methinks I hear some of you say, ' Must a man afibrd him- 
self no leisure ? ' I will tell thee, my friend, what poor Richard 
says. 'Employ thy time well, if thou meanest to gain leisure; 
and, since thou art not sure of a minute, throw not away an 
hour.' Leisure is time for doinsr somethins; useful ; this leisure 
the diligent man will obtain, but the lazy man never ; for ' a life 
of leisure and a life of laziness are two things. Many, without 
labor, would live by their wits only, but they break for want of 
stock ;' whereas industry gives comfort, and plenty, and respect. 
'Fly pleasures, and they will follow you. The diligent spinner 
has a large shift; and, now I have a sheep and a cow, every one 
bids me good-morrow.' 

" 2. But, with our industry, we must likewise be steady, set' 



356 franklin's select works. 

tied and careful, and oversee our own affairs with our own eyes, 
and not trust too much to others ; for, as poor E,ichard says, 

* I never saw an oft-removed tree. 
Nor yet an oft-removed family, 
That throve so well as those that settled be.' 



And again, ' three removes is as bad as a fire ;' and again, 
'keep thy shop, and thy shop will keep thee;' and again, 'if 
you would have your business done, go, — if not, send.' And 
again, 

* He that by the plough would thrive 
Himself must either hold or drive.' 

And again, • the eye of a master will do more work than both 
his hands;' and again, 'want of care does us more damaga 
than want of knowledge;' and again, ' not to oversee workmen 
is to leave them your purse open.' Trusting too much to others' 
care is the ruin of many ; for, ' in the affairs of this world, men 
are saved, not by faith, but by the want of it ;' but a man's own 
care is profitable ; for, ' if you would have a faithful servant, 
and one that you like, serve yourself. A little neglect may 
breed great mischief; for want of a nail the shoe was lost, and 
for want of a shoe the horse was lost, and for want of a horse 
the rider was lost,' being overtaken and slain by the enemy ; all 
for want of a little care about a horse-shoe nail. 

" 3. So much for industry, my friends, and attention to 
one's own business. But to these we must add frugality, if we 
would make our industry more certainly successful. A man 
may, if he knows not how to save as he gets, ' keep his nose all 
his life to the grindstone, and die not worth a groat at last. A 
fat kitchen makes a lean will ;' and 

' Many estates are spent in the getting. 
Since women for tea forsook spinning and knitting, 
And men for punch forsook hewing and splitting.' 

" ' If you would be wealthy, think of saving, as well as of get- 
ting. The Indies have not made Spain rich, because her outgoes 
are greater than her incomes.' 

"Away, then, with your expensive follies, and you will not 
then have so much cause to complain of hard times, heavy taxes, 
and chargeable families ; for 

* Women and wine, game and deceit. 
Make the wealth small, and the want great.' 

" And further, ' what maintains one vice would bring up two 
children.' You may think, perhaps, that a little tea, or a little 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 857 

punch now and then, diet a little more costly, clothes a little 
finer, and a little entertainment now and then, can be no great 
matter. But remember, ' many a little makes a mickle.' Be- 
ware of little expenses ; * a small leak will sink a great ship,' as 
poor Richard says; and again, 'who dainties love shall beggars 
prove;' and, moreover, 'fools make feasts, and wise men eat 
them.' 

" Here you are all got together to this sale of fineries and 
knick-knacks. You call them goods ; but, if you do not take care, 
they will prove evils to some of you. You expect they will be 
sold cheap, and perhaps they may, for less than they cost ; but, 
if you have no occasion for them, they must be dear to you. 
Remember what poor Richard says, ' buy what thou hast no 
need of, and ere long thou shalt sell thy necessaries.' And 
again, ' at a great pennyworth j^ause a while.' He means that 
perhaps the cheapness is apparent only, and not real ; or the 
bargain, by straitening thee in thy business, may do thee more 
harm than good. For, in another place he says, ' many have 
been ruined by buying good pennyworths.' Again, ' it is foolish 
to lay out money in a purchase of repentance ;' and yet this 
folly is practised every day at auctions, for want of minding the 
almanac. Many a one, for the sake of finery on the back, have 
gone with a hungry belly, and half starved their families ; ' silks 
and satins, scarlet and velvets, put out the kitchen fire,' as poor 
Richard says. These are not the necessaries of life, they can 
scarcely be called the conveniences ; and yet, only because they 
look pretty, how many want to have them ! By these and other 
extravagances, the genteel are reduced to poverty, and forced 
to borrow of those whom they formerly despised, but who, 
through industry and frugality, have maintained their standing ; 
in which case it appears plainly that ' a ploughman on his legs 
is higher than a gentleman on his knees,' as poor Richard says. 
Perhaps they have had a small estate left them, which they 
knew not the getting of; they think ' it is day, and it will never 
be night ; ' that a little to be spent out of so much is not worth 
minding ; but ' always taking out of the meal-tub, and never 
putting in, soon comes to the bottom,' as poor Richard says ; 
and then, ' when the well is dry, they know the worth of water.' 
But this they might have known before, if they had taken his 
advice : ' if you would know the value of money, go and try to 
borrow some ; for he that goes a borrowing goes a sorrowing,' 
as poor Richard says ; and indeed so does he that lends to such 
people, when he goes to get it again. Poor Dick furthel 
advises, and says. 



358 franklin's select works. 

• Fond pride of dress is sure a curse ; 
Ere fancy you consult, consult your purse.' 

And again, ' pride is as loud a beggar as want, and a great 
deal more saucy.' When you have bought one fine thing, you 
must buy ten more, that your appearance may be all of a piece ; 
but poor Dick says, ' it is easier to suppress the first desire than 
to satisfy all that follow it ;' and it is as truly folly for the poor 
to ape the rich, as for the frog to swell in order to equal the ox. 

« Vessels large may venture more, 
But little boats should keep near shore.' 

It is, however, a folly soon punished ; for, as poor Richard says, 
' pride that dines on vanity sups on contempt ; pride break- 
fasted with plenty, dined with poverty, and supped with infamy.' 
And, after all, of what use is this pride of appearance, for which 
so much is risked, so much is suffered ? It cannot promote 
health, nor ease pain ; it makes no increase of merit in the per- 
son ; it creates envy, it hastens misfortune. 

" But what madness must it be to ru7i in debt for these super- 
fluities ! We are offered by the terms of this sale six months' 
credit ; and that perhaps has induced some of us to attend it, 
because we cannot spare the ready money, and hope now to be 
fine without it. But, ah ! think what you do when you run in 
debt ; you give to another power over your liberty. If you can- 
not pay at the time, you will be ashamed to see your creditor, 
you will be in fear when you speak to him, when you will make 
poor, pitiful, sneaking excuses, and by degrees come to lose 
your veracity, and sink into base, downright lying ; for ' the 
second vice is lying, the^r^^ is running in debt,' as poor Richard 
says ; and again, to the same purpose, ' lying rides upon debt's 
back ;' whereas a free-born Englishman ought not to be ashamed 
nor afraid to see or speak to any man living. But poverty often 
dej)rives a man of all spirit and virtue. ' It is hard for an 
empty bag to stand upright.' What would you think of that 
prince, or of that government, who should issue an edict forbid- 
ding you to dress like a gentleman or gentlewoman, on pain of 
imprisonment or servitude ? Would you not say that you were 
free, have a right to dress as you please, and that such an edict 
would be a breach of your privileges, and such a government 
tyrannical ? And yet, you are about to put yourself under that 
tyranny when you run in debt for such dress. Your creditor has 
authority, at his pleasure, to deprive you of your liberty, by con- 
fining you in jail for life, or by selling you for a servant, if you 
should not be able to pay him. When you have got your bar- 
gain, you may, perhaps, think little of payment; but, as poor 



HIS j:oral ai;d jmiscellaneous papers. 859 

Kichard says, ' creditors have better memories than debtors ; 
creditors are a superstitious sect, great observers of set days and 
times.' The day comes round before you are aware, and the 
demand is made before you are prepared to satisfy it; or, if you 
bear your debt in mind, the term, which at first seemed so long, 
will, as it lessens, appear extremely short ; time will seem to 
have added wings to his heels, as well as his shoulders. ' Those 
have a short Lent who owe money to be paid at Easter.' At 
present, perhaps, you may think yourselves in thriving circum- 
stances, and that you can bear a little extravagance without 
injury ; but 

* For age and want save while you may, — 
No morning sun lasts a whole day.' 

Gain may be temporary and uncertain, but ever, while you live, 
expense is constant and certain ; and ' it is easier to build two 
chimneys than to keep one in fuel,' as poor Ptichard says : so, 
' rather go to bed supperless than rise in debt.' 

' Get what you can, and what you get hold, 
'T is the stone that will turn all your lead into gold.' 

And, when you have got the philosopher's stone, sure you will no 
longer complain of bad times, or the difi&eulty of paying taxes. 

" 4. This doctrine, my friends, is reason and wisdom : but, 
after all, do not depend too much upon your own industry, and 
frugality and prudence, though excellent things ; for they may 
all be blasted without the blessing of Heaven ; and therefore ask 
that blessing humbly, and be not uncharitable to those that at 
present seem to want it, but comfort and help them. Remember 
Job suffered, and was afterwards prosperous. 

" And now, to conclude, ' experience keeps a dear school, but 
fools will learn in no other,' as poor Richard says, and scarce 
in that ; for, it is true, ' we ma}^ give advice, but we cannot 
give conduct:' however, remember this, ' they that will not be 
counselled cannot be helped ;' and further, that ' if you will 
not hear reason she will surely rap your knuckles,' as poor 
Richard says." 

Thus the old gentleman ended his harangue. The people 
heard it, and approved the doctrine ; and immediately practised 
the contrary, just as if it had been a common sermon ; for the 
auction opened, and they began to buy extravagantly. I found 
the good man had thoroughly studied my almanacs, and digested 
all I had dropped on those topics diu'ing the course of twenty-five 
years. The frequent mention he made of me must have tired 
any one else ; but my vanity was wonderfully delighted with it, 
though I was conscious that not a tenth part of the wisdom waa 



860 franklin's select works. 

my own which he ascribed to me, but rather the gleanings that 
I had made of the sense of all ages and nations. However, I 
resolved to be the better for the echo of it ; and, though I had 
at first determined to buy stuff for a new coat, I went away 
resolved to wear my old one a little longer. Keader, if thou 
wilt do the same, thy profit will be as great as 

Richard Saunders. 



ADVICE TO A YOUNG TRADESMAN. 

WRITTEN ANNO 1748. 

As you have desired it of me, I write the following hints, 
which have been of service to me, and may, if observed, be so 
to you. 

Remember that time is money. He that can earn ten shil- 
lings a day by his labor, and goes abroad or sits idle one-half 
that day, though he spend but sixpence during his diversion or 
idleness, ought not to reckon that the only expense ; he has 
really spent, or rather thrown away, five shillings besides. 

Remember that credit is money. If a man lets his money 
lie in my hands after it is due, he gives me the interest, or so 
much as I can make of it, during that time. This amounts to a 
considerable sum where a man has good and large credit, and 
makes good use of it. 

Remember that money is of a prolific generating nature. 
Money can beget money, and its offspring can beget more, and 
so on. Five shillings turned is six, turned again it is seven and 
three-pence, and so on till it becomes a hundred pounds. The 
more there is of it, the more it produces every turning, so that 
the profits rise quicker and quicker. He that kills a breeding 
sow destroys all her offspring to the thousandth generation. He 
that murders a crown destroys all that it might have produced, 
even scores of pounds. 

Remember that six pounds a year is but a groat a day. For 
this little sum (which may be daily wasted either in time or 
expense unperceived) a man of credit may, on his own security, 
have the constant possession and use of a hundred pounds. So 
much in stock, briskly turned by an industrious man, produces 
great advantage. 

Remember this saying, "the good paymaster is lord of 
another man's purse." He that is known to pay punctually and 



HIS MORAL AXD MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. o61 

exactly to the time he promises may at any time, and on any 
occasion, raise all the money his friends can spare. This is 
sometimes of great use. After industry and frugality, nothing 
contributes more to the raising of a young man in the world 
than punctuality and justice in all his dealings : therefore, never 
keep borrowed mone}'' an hour beyond the time 3'^ou promised, 
lest a disappointment shut up your friend's purse forever. 

The most trifling actions that affect a man's credit ar(; to be 
regarded. The sound of your hammer at five in the morning, 
or nine at night, heard by a creditor, makes him easy six months 
longer; but, if he sees you at a billiard-table, or hears your voice 
at a tavern, when you should be at work, he sends for his money 
the next day, demands it before he can receive it in a lump. 

It shows, besides, that you are mindful of what you owe ; it 
makes you appear a careful as well as an honest man, and that 
still increases your credit. 

Beware of thinking all your own that you possess, and of 
living accordingly. It is a mistake that many people who have 
credit fall into. To prevent this, keep an exact account, for 
some time, both of your expenses and your income. If you 
take the pains at first to mention particulars, it will have this 
good effect : you will discover how wonderfully small trifling 
expenses mount up to large sums, and will discern what might 
have been and may for the future be saved, without occasioning 
any great inconvenience. 

In short, the way to wealth, if you desire it, is as plain as 
the way to market. It depends chiefly on two words, industry 
2i\\dt. frugality ; that is, waste neither tiriie nor money, but make 
the best use of both. Without industry and frugality nothing 
will do, and with them everything. He that gets all he can 
honestly, and saves all he gets (necessary expenses excepted), 
will certainly become rich — if that Being who governs the 
world, to whom all should look for a blessing on their honest 
endeavors, doth not, in his wise providence, otherwise determine 



fflNTS NECESSARY TO THOSE THAT WOULD BE RICH. 

WRITTEN ANNO 1736. 

The use of money is all the advantage there is in having 
money. 

For six pounds a year you may have the use of one hundred 
31 



362 franklin's select works. 

pounds, provided you are a man of known prudence and hon- 
esty. 

He that spends a groat a day idly spends idly above six 
pounds a year, which is the price for the use of one iiundred 
pounds. 

He that wastes idly a groat's worth of his time per day, one 
day with another, wastes the privilege of using one hundred 
pounds each day. 

He that idly loses five shillings' worth of time loses five shil- 
lings, and might as prudently throw five shillings into the sea. 

He that loses five shillings not only loses that sum, but all 
the advantage that might be made by turning it in dealing, 
which, by the time that a young man becomes old, will amount 
to a considerable sum of money. 

Again ; he that sells upon credit asks a price for what he 
sells equivalent to the principal and interest of his money for 
the time he is to be kept out of it ; therefore, he that buys upon 
credit pays interest for what he buys, and he that pays ready 
money might let that money out to use : so that he that pos- 
sesses anything he bought pays interest for the use of it. 

Yet, in buying goods, it is best to pay ready money, because 
he that sells upon credit expects to lose five per cent, by bad 
debts ; therefore, he charges on all he sells upon credit an 
advance that shall make up that deficiency. 

Those who pay for what they buy upon credit pay their share 
of this advance. 

He that pays ready money escapes, or may escape, that 
charge. 

•' A penny saved is two-pence clear, 
A pin a day 's a groat a year." 



THE HANDSOME AND DEFORMED LEG. 

There are two sorts of people in the world, who, with equal 
degrees of health and wealth and the other comforts of life, 
become, the one happy, and the other miserable. This arises 
very much from the different views in which they consider 
things, persons and events, and the efi"ect of those difierent 
views upon their own minds. 

In whatever situation men can be placed, they may find con- 
veniences and inconveniences ; in whatever company, they may 
find persons and conversation more or less pleasing ; at what- 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 363 

ever table, they may meet with meats and drinks of better and 
worse taste, dishes better and worse dressed ; in whatever cli- 
mate, they will find good and bad weather ; under whatever 
government, they may find good and bad laws, and good and 
bad administration of those laws ; in whatever poem, or work 
of genius, they may see faults and beauties ; in almost every 
f?ice and every person, they may discover fine features and 
defects, good and bad qualities. 

Under these circumstances, the two sorts of people above 
mentioned fix their attention, — those Avho are disposed to be 
happy on the conveniences of things, the pleasant parts of con- 
versation, the well-dressed dishes, the goodness of the wines, the 
fine weather, &c., and enjoy all with cheerfulness. Those who 
are to be unhappy think and speak only of the contraries. 
Hence, they are continually discontented themselves, and, by 
their remarks, sour the pleasures of society, ofiend personally 
many people, and make themselves everywhere disagreeable. 

If this turn of mind was founded in nature, such unhappy 
persons would be the more to be pitied. But, as the disposition 
to criticize and to be disgusted is, perhaps, taken up originally 
by imitation, and is, unawares, grown into a habit, which, though 
at present strong, may nevertheless be cured when those who 
have it are convinced of its bad efiects on their felicity, I hope 
this little admonition may be of service to them, and put them 
on changing a habit, which, though in the exercise it is chiefly 
an act of imagination, yet has serious consequences in life, as 
it brings on real griefs and misfortunes. For, as many are 
offended by and nobody loves this sort of people, no one shows 
them more than the most common civility and respect, and 
scarcely that ; and this frequently j)nts them out of humor, and 
draws them into disputes and contentions. If they aim at 
obtaining some advantage in rank or fortune, nobody wishes 
them success, or will stir a step, or speak a word, to favor their 
pretensions. If they incur public censure or disgrace, no one 
will defend or excuse, and many join to aggravate their miscon- 
duct, and render them completely odious. 

If these people will not change this bad habit, and conde- 
scend to be pleased with what is pleasing, without fretting 
themselves and others about the contraries, it is good for others 
to avoid an acquaintance with them, which is always disagree- 
able, and sometimes very inconvenient, especially when one 
finds one's self entangled in their quarrels. 

An old philosophical friend of mine was grown from experi^ 
ence very cautious in this particular, and carefully avoided any 



364 franklin's select works. 

intimacy with sucli people. He had, like other philosophers, a 
thermometer to show him the heat of the weather, and a 
barometer to mark when it was likely to prove good or bad ; 
but, there being no instrument invented to discover, at first sight, 
this unpleasing disposition in a person, he, for that purpose, 
made use of his legs; one of which was remarkably handsome, 
the other, by some accident, crooked and deformed. If a 
stranger, at the first interview, regarded his ugly leg more than 
his handsome one, he doubted him. If he spoke of it, and took 
no notice of the handsome leg, that was sufiicient to determine 
my philosopher to have no further acquaintance with him. 
Everybody has not this two-legged instrument; but every one, 
with a little attention, may observe signs of that carping, fault- 
finding disposition, and take the same resolution of avoiding the 
acquaintance of those infected with it. I therefore advise those 
critical, querulous, discontented, unhappy people, that, if they 
wish to be respected and beloved by others, and happy in them- 
selves, they should leave off looking at the ugly leg. 



THE SAVAGES OF NORTH AMERICA. 

Savages we call them, because their manners difi'er from 
ours, which we think the perfection of civility ; they think the 
same of theirs. 

Perhaps, if we could examine the manners of different 
nations with impartiality, we should find no people so rude as 
to be without any rules of politeness, nor any so polite as not 
to have some remains of rudeness. 

The Indian men, when young, are hunters and warriors ; 
when old, councillors ; for all their government is by the coun- 
cil or advice of the sages ; there is no force, there are no 
prisons, no officers to compel obedience, or inflict punishment. 
Hence, they generally study oratory, — the best speaker having 
the most influence. The Indian women till the ground, dress 
the food, nurse and bring up the children, and preserve and 
hand down to posterity the memory of public transactions. 
These employments of men and women are accounted natural 
and honorable. Having few artificial wants, they have abun- 
dance of leisure for improvement by conversation. 

Our laborious manner of life, compared with theirs, they 
esteem slavish and base ; and the learning on which we value 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 365 

ourselves they regard as frivolous and useless. An instance 
of this occurred at the treaty of Lancaster, in Pennsylvania, 
anno 1744, between the government of Virginia and the Six 
Nations. After the principal business was settled, the commis- 
sioners from Virginia acquainted the Indians, by a speech, that 
there was at AVilliamsburg a college, with a fund, for educating 
Indian youth ; and that, if the chiefs of the Six Nations would 
send down half a dozen of their sons to that college, the govern- 
ment would take care that they should be well provided for, and 
instructed in all the learning of the white people. 

It is one of the Indian rules of politeness not to answer a 
public proposition the same day that it is made ; they think it 
would be treating it as a light matter, and that they show it 
respect by taking time to consider it, as of a matter important. 
The}' therefore deferred their answer till the day following ; 
when their speaker began by expressing their deep sense of the 
kindness of the A'irginia government, in making them that 
offer ; " for we know," says he, " that you highly esteem the 
kind of learnino; taught in those colleo;es, and that the main- 
tenance of our young men, while with you, would be very 
expensive to you ; we are convinced, therefore, that you mean 
to do us good by your proposal, and we thank you heartily. 
But you, who are wise, must know that diff'erent nations have 
different conceptions of things; and you will therefore not take 
it amiss if our ideas of this kind of education happen not to 
be the same with yours. We have had some experience of it ; 
several of our young people were formerly brought up at the 
colleges of the northern j)rovinces; they were instructed in all 
your sciences, but when they came back to us they w^ere bad 
runners, ignorant of every means of living in the woods, unable 
to bear either cold or hunger, knew neither how to build a 
cabin, take a deer, or kill an. enemy, spoke our language imper- 
fectly, — were therefore neither fit for hunters, warriors, nor 
councillors ; they were totally good for nothing. We are, how- 
ever, not the less obliged by your kind offbr, though we decline 
accepting it ; and, to show our grateful sense of it, if the gen- 
tlemen of Virginia will send us a dozen of their sons, we will 
take great care of their education, instruct them in all we know, 
and make men of them." 

Having frequent occasions to hold public councils, they have 
acquired great order and decency in conducting them. The old 
men sit in the foremost ranks, the warriors in the next, and the 
women and children in the hindmost. The business of the 
women is to take exact notice of what passes, imprint it in their 
81# 



866 franklin's select works. 

memories, — for they have no writing, — and communicate it to 
their children. They are the records of the council, and they 
preserve the tradition of the stipulations in treaties a hundred 
years back ; which, when we compare with our writings, we 
always find exact. He that would speak rises. The rest 
observe a profound silence. When he has finished and sits 
down, they leave him five or six minutes to recollect, that, if he 
has omitted anything he intended to say, or has anything to 
add, he may rise again and deliver it. To interrupt another, 
even in common conversation, is reckoned highly indecent. How 
difi'erent this is from the conduct of a polite British House of 
Commons, where scarce a day passes without some confusion, 
that makes the speaker hoarse in calling to order ; and how dif- 
ferent from the mode of conversation in many polite companies 
of Europe, where, if you do not deliver your sentence with 
great rapidity, you are cut ofi" in the middle of it by the impa- 
tient loquacity of those you converse with, and never suffered 
to finish it ! 

The politeness of these savages in conversation is indeed car- 
ried to excess, since it does not permit them to contradict or 
deny the truth of what is asserted in their presence. By this 
means they indeed avoid disputes ; but then it becomes difficult 
to know their minds, or what impression you make upon them. 
The missionaries who have attempted to convert them to Chris- 
tianity all complain of this as one of the great difficulties of 
their mission. The Indians hear with patience the truths of the 
gospel explained to them, and give their usual tokens of assent 
and approbation ; you would think they were convinced. No 
such matter. It is mere civility. 

A Swedish minister, having assembled the chiefs of the Sus- 
quehanna Indians, made a sermon to them, acquainting them 
with the principal historical facts on which our religion is 
founded ; such as the fall of our first parents by eating an 
apple, the coming of Christ to repair the mischief, his miracles 
and suffering, &c. When he had finished, an Indian orator 
stood up to thank him. " What you have told us," says he, 
" is all very good. It is indeed bad to eat apples. It is better 
to make them all into cider. We are much obliged by your 
kindness in coming so far to tell us those things which you have 
heard from your mothers. In return, I will tell you some of 
those we have heard from ours. 

" In the beginning, our fathers had only the flesh of animals 
to subsist on, and, if their hunting was unsuccessful, they were 
starving. Two of our young hunters, having killed a deer 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 867 

made a fire in the woods to broil some parts of it. When they 
were about to satisfy their hunger they beheld a beautiful 
young woman descend from the clouds, and seat herself on that 
hill A\hich you see yonder among the Blue Mountains. They 
said to each other, ' It is a spirit that perhaps has smelt our 
broiling venison, and wishes to eat of it ; let us ojffer some to 
her.' They presented her with the tongue : she was pleased 
with the taste of it, and said, * Your kindness shall be rewarded ; 
come to this place after thirteen moons, and you shall find some- 
thing that will be of great benefit in nourishing you and your 
children to the latest generations.' They did so, and, to their 
surprise, found plants they had never seen before, but which, 
from that ancient time, have been constantly cultivated among 
us, to our great advantage. AVhere her right hand had touched 
the ground they found maize, where her left hand had touched 
it they found kidney-beans, and where her backside had sat on it 
they found tobacco." 

The good missionar}^ disgusted with this idle tale, said : 
" What I delivered to 3^ou were sacred truths ; but what you tell 
me is mere fable, fiction and falsehood." 

The Indian, ofiended, replied : " My brother, it seems your 
friends have not done you justice in your education ; they have 
not well instructed you in the rules of common civility. You 
saw that we, who understand and practise those rules, believed 
all your stories ; why do you refuse to believe ours ? " 

When any of them come into our towns, our people are apt 
to crowd round them, gaze upon them, and incommode them 
where they desire to be private ; this they esteem great rude- 
ness, and the efiect of the want of instruction in the rules of 
civility and good manners. " We have," say they, " as much 
curiosity as you, and when you come into our towns we wish 
for opportunities of looking at you ; but for this purpose we 
hide ourselves behind bushes where you are to pass, and never 
intrude ourselves into your company." 

Their manner of entering one another's villages has likewise 
its rules. It is reckoned uncivil, in travelling strangers, to enter 
a village abruptly, without giving notice of their approach. 
Therefore, as soon as they arrive within hearing, they stop and 
halloa, remaining there till invited to enter. Two old men 
usually come out to them, and lead them in. There is in every 
village a vacant dwelling, called the stranger's house. Here 
they are placed, while the old men go round from hut to hut, 
acquainting the inhabitants that strangers are arrived, who are 
probably hungry and weary ; and every one sends them what 



368 fkanklin's select works. 

lie can spare of victuals, and skins to repose on. "Wlien the 
strangers are refreshed, pipes and tobacco are brought ; and 
then, but not before, conversation begins, with inquiries who 
they are, whither bound, what news, &c., and it usually ends 
with offers of service, if the strangers have occasion for guides, 
or any necessaries for continuing their journey ; and nothing is 
exacted for the entertainment. 

The same hospitality, esteemed among them as a principal 
virtue, is practised by private persons ; of which Conrad Wei- 
ser, our interpreter, gave me the following instance. He had 
been naturalized among the Six Nations, and spoke well the 
Mohawk language. In going through the Indian country, to 
carry a message from our governor to the council at Onondaga, 
he called at the habitation of Canassetego, an old acquaintance, 
who embraced him, spread furs for him to sit on, and placed 
before him some boiled beans and venison, and mixed some rum 
and water for his drink. When he was well refreshed, and had 
lit his pipe, Canassetego began to converse with him ; asked 
how he had fared the many years since they had seen each 
other, whence he then came, what occasioned the journey, &c. 
Conrad answered all his questions, and, when the discourse 
began to flag, the Indian, to continue it, said : " Conrad, j'ou 
have lived long among the white people, and know something 
of their customs ; I have been sometimes at Albany, and have 
observed that once in seven days they shut up their shops, and 
assemble all in the great house ; tell me what it is for. What 
do they do there ? " 

"They meet there," says Conrad, " to hear and learn good 
things.^' 

"I do not doubt,'- says the Indian, "that they tell you so; 
they have told me the same ; but I doubt the truth of what 
they say, and I will tell you my reasons. I went lately to 
Albany, to sell my skins, and buy blankets, knives, powder, 
rum, &c. You know I used generally to deal with Hans Han- 
son, but I was a little inclined this time to try some other 
merchants. However, I called first upon Hans, and asked him 
what he would give for beaver. He said he could not give any 
more than four shillings a pound ; but, says he, I cannot talk on 
business now ; this is the day when we meet together to learn 
good things, and I am going to meeting. So I thought to my- 
self, since I cannot do any business to-day, I may as well go to 
the meetinsj too, and I went with him. 

" There stood up a man in black, and began to talk to the 
people very angrily. I did not understand what he said ; but, 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 369 

perceiving that lie looked much at me and at Hanson, I imag- 
ined he was angry at seeing me there ; so 1 went out, sat down 
near the house, struck fire, and lit my pipe, waiting till the 
meeting should break up. I thought, too, that the man had 
mentioned something of beaver, and I suspected it might be the 
subject of their meeting. So, when they came out, I accosted 
my merchant. ' Well, Hans,' says I, ' I hope you have agreed 
to give more than four shillings a pound ? ' ' No,' says he, ' I 
cannot give so much ; I cannot give more than three shillings 
and sixpence. I then spoke to several other dealers ; but they 
all sung the same song, — three and sixpence, — three and six- 
pence. This made it clear to me that my suspicion was right ; 
and that, whatever they pretended of meeting to learn good 
things, the real purpose was to consult how to cheat Indians in 
the price of beaver. Consider but a little, Conrad, and you 
must be of my opinion. If they met so often to learn good 
things, they would certainly have learned some before this time. 
But they are still ignorant. You know our practice. 

" If a white man, in travelling through our country, enters 
one of our cabins, we all treat him as I do you ; we dry him 
if he is wet, we warm him if he is cold, and give him meat and 
drink that he may allay his thirst and hunger, and we spread 
soft furs for him to rest and sleep on : we demand nothing in 
return. But, if I go into a white man's house at Albany, and 
ask for victuals and drink, they say, 'Where is your money?* 
and, if I have none, they say, ' Get out, you Indian dog ! ' You 
see they have not yet learned those little good things that we 
need no meetings to be instructed in, because our mothers 
taught them to us, when we were children ; and, therefore, it is 
impossible their meetings should be, as they say, for any such 
purpose, or have any such effect ; they are only to contrive the 
cheating of Indians in the price of beaver ^ 



DIALOGUE BETWEEN FRANKLIN AND THE GOUT. 

Midnight, October 22, 1780. 

Franklin. Eh ! ! Eh ! What have I done to merit these 
cruel sufierings ? 

Gout. Many things ; you have ate and drank too freely, and 
too much indulged those legs of yours in their indolence. 

Franklin. Who is it that accuses me ? 



370 franklin's select works. 

Gout. It is I, even I, the Gout. 

Franklin. What ! my enemy in person ? 

Gout. No, not your enemy. 

Franklin. I repeat it, — my enemy ; for, you would not only 
torment my body to death, but ruin my good name ; you re- 
proach me as a glutton and a tippler ; now, all the world that 
knows me will allow that I am neither the one nor the other. 

Gout. The world may think as it pleases ; it is alwaj^s very 
complaisant to itself, and sometimes to its friends ; but I very 
well know that the quantity of meat and drink proper for a man, 
who takes a reasonable degree of exercise, would be too much 
for another, who never take^ any. 

Franklin. I take — Eh ! ! — as much exercise — Eh ! — 
as I can, Madam Gout. You know my sedentary state ; and, on 
that account, it would seem. Madam Gout, as if you might spare 
me a little, seeing it is not altogether my own fault. 

Gout. Not a jot ; your rhetoric and your politeness are thrown 
away; your apology avails nothing. If your situation in life 
is a sedentary one, your amusements, your recreations, at least, 
should be active. You ought to walk or ride ; or, if the weather 
prevents that, play at billiards. But let us examine your course 
of life. While the mornings are long, and you have leisure to 
go abroad, what do you do ? Why, instead of gaining an 
appetite for breakfast by salutary exercise, you amuse yourself 
with books, pamphlets or newspapers, which commonly are not 
worth the reading. Yet you eat an inordinate breakfast : four 
dishes of tea, with cream, and one or two buttered toasts, with 
slices of hung beef, which I fancy are not things the most easily 
digested. Immediately afterward, you sit down to write at 
your desk, or converse with persons who apply to you on business. 
Thus the time passes till one, without any kind of bodily exer- 
cise. But all this I could pardon, in regard, as you say, to 
your sedentary condition. But what is your practice after din- 
ner ? Walking in the beautiful gardens of those friends with 
whom you have dined would be the choice of men of sense ; 
yours is to be fixed down to chess, where you are found engaged 
for two or three hours ! This is yom* perpetual recreation, 
which is the least eligible of any for a sedentary man, because, 
instead of accelerating the miction of the fluids, the rigid atten- 
tion it requires helps to retard the circulation and obstruct 
internal secretions. Wrapt in the speculations of this wretched 
game, you destroy your constitution. What can be expected 
from such a course of living, but a body replete with stagnant 
humors, ready to fall a prey to all kinds of dangerous maladies, 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 371 

if r, the Gout, did not occasionally bring you relief by agitating 
those humors, and so purifying or dissipating them ? If it was 
in some nook or alley in Paris, deprived of walks, that you 
played a while at chess after dinner, this might be excusable ; 
but the same taste prevails with you in Passy, Auteuil, Mont- 
martre, or Sanoy, places where there are the finest gardens and 
walks, a pure air, beautiful* women, and most agreeable and 
instructive conversation ; all which you might enjoy by frequent- 
ing the walks. But these are rejected for this abominable game 
of chess. Fie, then, Mr. Franklin ! But amidst my instruc- 
tions, I had almost forgotten to administer my wholesome cor- 
rections ; so take that twinge, — and that ! 

Franklin, ! Eh ! ! O-o-o-o ! As much instruction as 
you please, Madam Gout, and as many reproaches ; but pray, 
Madam, a truce with your corrections ! 

Gout. No, sir, no, — I will not abate a particle of what is 
so much for your good, — therefore — 

Franklin. ! E-h-h-h ! — It is not fair to say I take no 
exercise, when I do very often, going out to dine and retui'ning 
in my carriage. 

Gaiit. That, of all imaginable exercises, is the most slight and 
insignificant, if you allude to the motion of a carriage suspended 
on springs. By observing the degree of heat obtained by difier- 
ent kinds of motion, we may form an estimate of the quantity of 
exercise given by each. Thus, for example, if you turn out to 
walk in winter with cold feet, in an hour's time you will be in a 
glow all over ; ride on horseback, the same efi"ect will scarcely 
be perceived by four hours' round trotting ; but, if you loll in a 
carriage, such as you have mentioned, you may travel all day, 
and gladly enter the last inn to warm your feet by a fire. 
Flatter yourself, then, no longer, that half an hour's airing in 
your carriage deserves the name of exercise. Providence has 
appointed few to roll in carriages, while He has given to all a 
pair of legs, which are machines infinitely more commodious and 
serviceable. Be grateful, then, and make a proper use of yours. 
Would you know how they forward the circulation of your fluids, 
in the very action of transporting you from place to place ; — ob- 
serve, when you walk, that all your weight is alternately thrown 
from one leg to the other ; this occasions a great pressure on the 
vessels of the foot, and repels their contents ; when relieved by 
the weight being thrown on the other foot, the vessels of the first 
are allowed to replenish, and, by a return of the weight, this 
repulsion again succeeds ; thus accelerating the circulation of 
the blood. The heat produced in any given time depends on 



372 franklin's select works. 

the degree of this acceleration ; the fluids are shaken, the humors 
attenuated, the secretions facilitated, and all goes well ; the 
cheeks are ruddy, and health is established. Behold your fair 
friend at Auteuil ; ^ a lady who received from bounteous nature 
more really useful science than half a dozen such pretenders to 
philosophy as you have been able to extract from all your books. 
When she honors you with a visit it is on foot. She walks all 
hours of the day, and leaves indolence and its concomitant 
maladies, to be endured by her horses. In this see at once the 
preservative of her health and personal charms. But, when you 
go to Auteuil, you must have your carriage, though it is no 
further from Passy to Auteuil than from Auteuil to Passy. 

Franklin. Your reasonings grow very tiresome. 

Gout. I stand corrected. I will be silent, and continue my 
office ; take that, and that ! 

Franklin. ! O-o-o ! Talk on, I pray you ! 

Gout. No, no ; I have a good number of twinges for you 
to-night, and you may be sure of some more to-morrow. 

Franklin. What, with such a fever ! I shall go distracted. 
! Ell ! Can no one bear it for me ? 

Gout. Ask that of your horses ; they have served you faith- 
fully. 

Franklin. How can you so cruelly sport with my torments ? 

Gout. Sport ! I am very serious. I have here a list of 
offences against your own health distinctly written, and can 
justify every stroke inflicted on you. 

Franklin. Read it, then. 

Gout. It is too long a detail ; but I will briefly mention some 
particulars. 

Franklin. Proceed. I am all attention. 

Gout. Do you remember how often you have promised your- 
self, the following morning, a walk in the grove of Boulogne, in 
the garden de la Muette, or in your own garden, and have 
violated your promise, alleging, at one time, it was too cold, at 
another too warm, too windy, too moist, or what else you 
pleased ; when in truth it was too nothing but your insuperable 
love of ease ? 

Franklin. That, I confess, may have happened occasionally, 
— probably ten times in a year. 

Gout. Your confession is very far short of the truth ; the 
gross amount is one hundred and ninety-nine times. 

Franklin. Is it possible ? 

Gout. So possible, that it is fact ; you may rely on the 

* Madame Helvetius. 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 373 

accuracy of my statement. You know Mr. Brillon's gardens, 
and what fine walks they contain ; you know the handsome flight 
of an hundred steps, which lead from the terrace above to the 
lawn below. You have been in the practice of visiting this 
amiable family twice a week, after dinner, and it is a maxim of 
your own that " a man may take as much exercise in walking a 
mile, up and down stairs, as in ten on level ground." What an 
opportunity was here for you to have had exercise in both these 
ways ! Did you embrace it, and how often ? 

Franklin. I cannot immediately answer that question. 

Gout. I will do it for you ; not once. 

Franklin. Not once ? 

Gout, Even so. During the summer you went there at six 
o'clock. You found the charming lady, with her lovely children 
and friends, eager to walk with you and entertain you with their 
agreeable conversation ; and what has been your choice ? Why, 
to sit on the terrace, satisfying yourself with the fine prospect, 
and passing your eye over the beauties of the garden below, 
without taking one step to descend and walk about in them. On 
the contrary, you call for tea and the chess-board ; and lo ! you 
are occupied in your seat till nine o'clock, and that besides two 
hours' play after dinner ; and then, instead of walking home, 
which would have bestirred you a little, you step into your 
carriage. How absurd to suppose that all this carelessness can 
be reconcilable with health, without my interposition' 

Franklin. I am convinced now of the justness of poor Rich- 
ard's remark, that " Our debts and our sins are always greater 
than we think for." 

Gout. So it is. ' You philosophers are sages in your maxims, 
and fools in your conduct. 

Franklin. But do you charge, among my crimes, that I return 
in a carriage from Mr. Brillon's ? 

Gout. Certainly ; for, having been seated all the while, you 
cannot object the fatigue of the day, and cannot want, therefore, 
the relief of a carriage. 

Franklin. What, then, would you have me do with my car- 
riage ? 

Gout. Burn it, if you choose ; you would at least get heat out 
of it once in this way. Or, if you dislike that proposal, here 's 
another for you : observe the poor peasants, who work in the 
vineyards and grounds about the vilages of Passy, Auteuil, 
Chaillot, &c. ; you may find every day, among these deserving 
creatures, four or five old men and women, bent and perhaps 
crippled by weight of years, and too long and too great labor. 
32 



374 feanklin's select works. 

After a most fatiguing day, these people have to trudge a mile 
or two to their smoky huts. Order your coachman to set them 
down. This is an act that will be good for your soul ; and, at 
the same time, after your visit to the Brillons, if you return on 
foot, that will be good for your body. 

Franklin. Ah ! how tiresome you are ! 

Gout. Well, then, to my office ; it should not be forgotten 
that I am your physician. There ! 

Franklin. O-o-o-o ! what a devil of a physician ! 

Gout. How ungrateful you are to say so ! Is it not I who, in 
the character of your physician, have saved you from the palsy, 
dropsy, and apoplexy ? one or other of which would have done 
for you long ago, but for me. 

Franklin. I submit, and thank you for the past, but entreat 
the discontinuance of your visits for the future ; for, in my 
mind, one had better die than be cured so dolefully. Permit 
me just to hint that I have also not been unfriendly to you. I 
never feed physician or quack of any kind, to enter the list 
against you ; if, then, you do not leave me to my repose, it may 
be said you are ungrateful too. 

Gout. I can scarcely acknowledge that as any objection. As 
to quacks, I despise them ; they may kill you, indeed, but cannot 
injure me. And, as to regular physicians, they are at last con- 
vinced that the gout, in such a subject as you are, is no disease, 
but a remedy; and wherefore cure a remedy? — but to our 
business, — there ! 

Franklin. ! ! — for Heaven's sake leave me ; and I 
promise faithfully never more to play at chess, but to take exer- 
cise daily, and live temperately. 

Gout. I know you too well. You promise fair ; but, after a 
few months of good health, you will return to your old habits ; 
your fine promises will be forgotten, like the forms of the last 
year's clouds. Let us, then, finish the account, and I will go. 
But I leave you with an assurance of visiting you again at a 
proper time and place ; for my object is your good, and you are 
sensible now that I am your real friend. 



HIS MORAL AXD MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 875 

[to MADAME BRILLON.] 

THE WHISTLE. 

Passy, 10 jSTorember, 1779. 

I RECEIVED my dear friend's two letters, one for Wednesday 
and one for Saturday. This is again Wednesday. I do not 
deserve one for to-day, because I have not answered the former. 
Bat, indolent as I am, and averse to writing, the fear of having 
no more of your pleasing epistles, if I do not contribute to the 
correspondence, obliges me to take up my pen ; and, as Mr. B. 
has kindly sent me word that he sets out to-morrow to see you, 
instead of spending this Wednesday evening, as I have done its 
namesakes, in your delightful company, I sit down to spend it 
in thinking of you, in writing to you, and in reading over and 
over again your letters. 

I am charmed with your description of Paradise, and with 
your plan of living there ; and I approve much of your conclu- 
sion, that, in the mean time, we should draw all the good we can 
from this world. In my opinion, we might all draw more good 
from it than we do, and suffer less evil, if we would take care 
not to give too much for whistles. For to me it seems that 
most of the unhappy people we meet with are become so by 
neglect of that caution. 

You ask what I mean ? You love stories, and will excuse 
my telling one of myself 

When I was a child of seven years old, my friends, on a 
holiday, filled my pocket with coppers. I went directly to a 
shop where they sold toys for children; and, being charmed 
with the sound of a whistle, that I met by the way in the hands 
of another boy, I voluntarily offered and gave all my money for 
one. I then came home, and went whistling all over the house, 
much pleased with my whistle, but disturbing all the family. 
My brothers, and sisters, and cousins, understanding the bargain 
I had made, told me I had given four times as much for it as it 
was worth ; put me in mind what good things I might have 
bought with the rest of the money ; and laughed at me so much 
for my folly, that I cried with vexation, and the reflection 
gave me more chagrin than the whistle gave me pleasure. 

This, however, was afterwards of use to me, the impression 
continuing on my mind; so that often, when I was tempted to 
buy some unnecessary thing, I said to myself. Don't give too 
much for the whistle ; and I saved my money. 

As I grew up, came into the world, and observed the actions 



376 franklin's select works. 

of men, I thought I met with many, very many, who gave too 
much for the ivhistle. 

When I saw one too ambitious of court favor, sacrificing his 
time in attendance on levees, his repose, his liberty, his virtue, 
and perhaps his friends, to attain it, I have said to myself, This 
man gives too inuch for his whistle. 

When I saw another fond of popularity, constantly employing 
himself in political bustles, neglecting his own affairs, and ruin- 
ing them by that neglect. He pays, indeed, said I, too much for 
his whistle. 

If I knew a miser, who gave up every kind of comfortable 
living, all the pleasure of doing good to others, all the esteem 
of his fellow-citizens, and the joys of benevolent friendship, for 
the sake of accumulating wealth, Foor man, said I, you pay too 
tnuch for your whistle. 

When I met with a man of pleasure, sacrificing every laud- 
able improvement of the mind, or of his fortune, to mere corpo- 
real sensations, and ruining his health in their pursuit. Mistaken 
man, said I, you are providing pain for yourself, instead of 
pleasure ; you give too much for your ivhistle. 

If I see one fond of appearance, or fine clothes, fine houses, 
fine furniture, fine equipages, all above his fortune, for which he 
contracts debts, and ends his career in a prison, Alas ! say I, 
he has paid dear, very dear, for his whistle. 

When I see a beautiful, sweet-tempered girl married to an 
ill-natured brute of a husband. What a pity, say I, that she 
should pay so much for a whistle ! 

In short, I conceive that great part of the miseries of man- 
kind are brought upon them by the false estimates they have 
made of the value of things, and by their giving too much for 
their whistles. 

Yet I ought to have charity for these unhappy people, when 
I consider that, with all this wisdom of which I am boasting, 
there are certain things in the world so tempting, — for example, 
the apples of King John, which happily are not to be bought ; 
for, if they were put to sale by auction, I might very easily be 
led to ruin myself in the purchase, and find that I had once 
more given too much for the whistle. 

Adieu, my dear friend, and believe me ever yours, very sin« 
cerely and with unalterable affection, B. Franklin. 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 377 



QUESTIONS FOR THE JUNTO.* 

Have you read over these queries this morning, in order to 
consider what you might have to offer the Junto touching any 
one of them ? namely : 

1. Have you met with anything, in the author you last read, 
remarkable, or suitable to be communicated to the Junto ? Par- 
ticularly in history, morality, poetry, physic, travels, mechanic 
arts, or other parts of knowledge ? 

2. What new story have you lately heard, agreeable for 
telling in conversation ? 

3. Hath any citizen in your knowledge failed in his business 
lately, and what have you heard of the cause ? 

* For some account of this club, see chapter iv. of the Autobiography. 
The graver pursuits of the Junto were sometimes varied with music and 
song. The following song was composed for one of their meetings by 
Franklin. In one of his letters he applies it to his wife : 

MY PLAIN COtrXTRY JOAX. 

Of their Chloes and Phyllises poets may prate, 

I sing my plain country Joan, 
These twelve years my wife, still the joy of my life, — 

Blest day that I made her my own ! 

Not a word of her face, of her shape, or her air. 
Or of flames, or of darts, you shall hear ; 

I beauty admire, but virtue I prize, 
That fades not in seventy year. 

Am I loaded with care, she takes off a large share. 
That the burden ne'er makes me to reel ; 

Does good fortune arrive, the joy of my wife 
Quite doubles the pleasure I feel. 

She defends my good name, even whem I 'm to blame, 

Firm friend as to man e'er was given ; 
Her compassionate breast feels for all the distressed. 

Which draws down more blessings from heaven. 

In health a companion delightful and dear, 

Still easy, engaging, and free ; 
In sickness no less than the carefulest nurse, 

As tender as tender can be. 

In peace and good order my household she guides, 

Right careful to save what I gain ; 
Yet cheerfully spends, and smiles on the friends 

I 've the pleasure to entertain. 

Some faults have we all, and so has my Joan, 

But then they 're exceedingly small. 
And, now I 'm grown used to them, so like my own, 

I scarcely can see them at all. 



ST8 franklin's select works. 

4. Have you lately heard of any citizen's thriving well, and 
by what means ? 

5. Have you lately heard how any present rich man, here or 
elsewhere, got his estate ? 

6. Do you know of a fellow-citizen who has lately done a 
worthy action, deserving praise and imitation : or who has lately 
committed an error, proper for us to be warned against and 
avoid ? 

7. What unhapp}' effects of intemperance have you lately 
observed or heard ? of imprudence ? of passion ? or of any 
other vice or folly ? 

8. What happy effects of temperance ? of prudence ? of mod- 
eration ? or of any other virtue ? 

Were the finest young princess, with millions in purse. 

To be had in exchange for my Joan, 
I could not get a better, but might get a worse, 

So I '11 stick to my dearest old Joan. 



The following song was probably written by Franklin during his second 
visit to England : 

THE MOTHER COUNTRY. 

We have an old mother that peevish is grown ; 
She snubs us like children that scarce walk alone ; 
She forgets we 're grown up, and have sense of our own ; 
Which nobody can deny, deny. 
Which nobody can deny. 

If we don't obey orders, whatever the case, 
She frowns, and she chides, and she loses all pati- 
Ence, and sometimes she hits us a slap in the face ; 
Which nobody can deny, «fec. 

Her orders so odd are, we often suspect 
That age has impaired her sound intellect ; 
But still an old mother should have due respect; 
Which nobody can deny, &g. 

Let 's bear with her humors as well as we can ; 
But why should we bear the abuse of her man 1 
When servants make mischief, they earn the rattan ; 
Which nobody should deny, <&c. 

Know, too, ye bad neighbors, who aim to divide 
The sons from the mother, that still she 's our pride ; 
And if ye attack her, we 're all of her side ; 
Which nobody can deny, &c. 

We '11 join in her law-suits, to baffle all those 
Who, to get what she has, will be often her foes ; 
For we know it must all be our own, when she goes ; 
Which nobody can deny, deny, 
Which nobody can deny. 



HIS MORxiL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 379 

9. Have jon, or any of your acquaintance, been lately sick oi 
wounded ? If so, what remedies were used, and what were theii' 
effects ? 

10. Who do you know that are shortly going voyages or 
journeys, if one should have occasion to send by them ? 

11. Do you think of anything at present in which the Junto 
may be serviceable to mankiTid^ to their country, to their 
friends, or to themselves ? 

12. Hath any deserving stranger arrived in town since last 
meeting, that you heard of? and what have you heard or 
observed of his character or merits ? and whether, think you, it 
lies in the power of the Junto to oblige him, or encourage him 
as he deserves ? 

13. Do you know of any deserving young beginner lately 
set up, whom it lies in the power of the Junto any way to 
encourage ? 

14. Have you lately observed any defect in the laws of your 
country, of which it would be proper to move the legislature for 
an amendment ? or do you know of any beneficial law that is 
wantino; ? 

15. Have you lately observed any encroachment on the just 
liberties of the people ? 

16. Hath anybody attacked your reputation lately ? and 
what can the Junto do towards securing it ? 

17. Is there any man whose friendship you want, and which 
the Junto, or any of them, can procure for you ? 

18. Have you lately heard any member's character attacked, 
and how have you defended it ? 

19. Hath any man injured you, from whom it is in the power 
of the Junto to procure redress ? 

20. In what manner can the Junto, or any of them, assist you 
in any of your honorable designs ? 

21. Have you any weighty affair in hand, in which you think 
the advice of the Junto may be of service ? 

22. What benefits have you lately received from any man no' 
present ? 

23. Is there any dijSiculty in matters of opinion, of justice 
and injustice, which you would gladly have discussed at thi 
time ? 

21. Do you see anything amiss in the present customs oy 
proceedings of the Junto, which might be amended ? 

Any person to be qualified, to stand up, and lay his hand 
on his breast, and be asked these questions, namely ; 



380 FRANKLIN S SELECT WORKS. 

1. Have 3^ou any particular disrespect to any present mem- 
bers ? 

Answer. I have not. 

2. Do you sincerely declare that you love mankind in gen- 
eral, of what profession or religion soever ? 

Answer. I do. 

3. Do you think any person ought to be harmed in his body, 
name or goods, for mere speculative opinions, or his external 
way of worship ? 

Answer. No. 

4. Do you love truth for truth's sake ; and will you endeavor 
impartially to find and receive it yourself, and communicate it to 
others ? 

Aiiswer. Yes. 

Questions discussed by the Club. 

Is sound an entity or body ? 

How may the phenomena of vapors be explained ? 

Is self-interest the rudder that steers mankind, the universal 
monarch to whom all are tributaries ? 

Which is the best form of government, and what was that 
form which first prevailed among mankind ? 

Can any one particular form of government suit all mankind ? 

What is the reason that the tides rise higher in the Bay of 
Fundy than the Bay of Delaware ? 

Is the emission of paper money safe ? 

What is the reason that men of the greatest knowledge are 
not the most happy ? 

, How may the possessions of the lakes be improved to our 
advantage ? 

Why are tumultuous, uneasy sensations united with our de- 
sires ? 

Whether it ought to be the aim of philosophy to eradicate the 
passions. 

How may smoky chimneys be best cured ? 

Why does the flame of a candle tend upwards in a spire ? 

Which is least criminal, a bad action joined with a good inten- 
tion, or a good action with a bad intention ? 

Is it inconsistent with the principles of liberty, .in a free 
government, to punish a man as a libeller when he speaks the 
truth ? 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 881 



THE INTERNAL STATE OF AMERICA. 

BEING A TRUE DESCRIPTION OF THE INTEREST AND POLICY fiF 
TUAT VAST CONTINENT. 

There is a tradition that, in the planting of New England, the 
first settlers met with many difl&culties and hardships, as is 
generally the case when a civilized people attempt establishing 
themselves in a wilderness country. Being piously disposed, 
they sought relief from Heaven, by laying their wants and dis- 
tresses before the Lord in frequent set days of fasting and prayer. 
Constant meditation and discourse on these subjects kept their 
minds gloomy and discontented ; and, like the children of Israel, 
there were many disposed to return to that Egypt which perse- 
cution had induced them to abandon. At length, when it was 
proposed in the assembly to proclaim another fast, a farmer of 
plain sense rose and remarked, that the inconveniences they 
suffered, and concerning which they had so often wearied Heaven 
with their complaints, were not so great as they might have ex- 
pected, and were diminishing every day as the colony strength- 
ened ; that the earth began to reward their labor, and to furnish 
liberally for their subsistence ; that the seas and rivers were found 
full of fish, the air sweet, the climate healthy ; and, above all, 
that they were there in the full enjoyment of liberty, civil and 
relicjious. He therefore thouarht that reflecting; and conversina; on 
these subjects would be more comfortable, as tending more to 
make them contented with their situation ; and that it would be 
more becoming the gratitude they owed to the Divine Being, if, 
instead of a fast, they should proclaim a thanksgiving. His ad- 
vice was taken ; and, from that day to this, they have, in every 
year, observed circumstances of public felicity sufficient to furnish 
employment for a thanksgiving day, which is therefore constantly 
ordered and religiously observed. 

I see in the public newspapers of difierent states frequent com- 
plaints of hard times, deadness of trade, scarcity of money, Sj-c. It 
is not my intention to assert or maintain that these complaints are 
entirely without foundation. There can be no country or nation 
existing in which there will not be some people so circumstanced as 
to find it hard to gain a livelihood : people who are not in the way 
of any profitable trade, and with whom money is scarce, because 
they have nothing to give in exchange for it; and it is always in 
the power of a small number to make a great clamor. But, let 
us take a cool view of the general state of our aflairs, and perhaps 
the prospect will appear less gloomy than has been imagined. 
32=^ 



382 franklin's select works. 

The great business of the continent is agriculture. For one 
artisan, or merchant, I suppose we have at least one hundred 
farmers, by flir the greatest part cultivators of their own fertile 
lands, from whence many of them draw not only the food necessary 
for their subsistence, but the materials of their clothing, so as to 
need very few foreign sup2:)lies ; while they have a surplus of pro- 
ductions to dispose of, whereby wealth is gradually accumulated. 
Such has been the goodness of Divine Providence to these re- 
gions, and so fiivorable the climate, that, since the three or four 
years of hardship in the first settlement of our fathers here, a 
flimine or scarcity has never been heard of amongst us ; on the 
contrary, though some years may have been more and others less 
plentiful, there has always been provision enough for ourselves, 
and a quantity to spare for exportation. And, although the 
crops of last year were generally good, never was the farmer bet- 
ter paid for the part he can spare commerce, as the published 
price-currents abundantly testify. The lands he possesses are 
also continually rising in value with the increase of population ; 
and, on the whole, he is enabled to give such good wages to those 
who work for him, that all who are acquainted with the Old 
World must agree, that in no part of it are the laboring poor 
so generally well fed, well clothed, well lodged, and well paid, as 
in the United States of America. 

If we enter the cities, we find that, since the Revolution, the 
owners of houses and lots of ground have had their interest vastly 
augmented in value ; rents have risen to an astonishing height, 
and thence encouragement to increase building, which gives em- 
ployment to an abundance of workmen, as does also the increased 
luxury and splendor of living of the inhabitants, thus made richer. 
These workmen all demand and obtain much higher wages than 
any other part of the world would afibrd them, and are paid in 
ready money. This class of people therefore do not, or ought 
not, to complain of hard times ; and they make a very consider- 
able part of the city inhabitants. 

At the distance I live from our American fisheries, I cannot 
speak of them with any degree of certainty ; but I have not heard 
that the labor of the valuable race of men employed in them is 
worse paid, or that they meet with less success, than before the 
Revolution. The whalemen, indeed, have been deprived of one 
market for their oil ; but another, I hear, is opening for them, 
which it is hoped may be equally advantageous ; and the demand 
is cop^tantly increasing for their spermaceti candles, which there- 
fore bear a much higher price than formerly. 

There remain the merchants and shop-keepers. Of these, 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 883 

though they make but a small part of the wnole nation, the num- 
ber is considerable, — too great, indeed, for the business thej are 
employed in ; for the consumption of goods in every country has 
its limits, the faculties of the people, that is, their ability to buy 
and pay, being equal only to a certain quantity of merchandise. 
If merchants calculate amiss on this proportion, and import too 
much, they will of course find the sale dull for the overplus, and 
some of them will say that trade languishes. They should, and 
doubtless will, grow wiser by experience, and import less. If too 
many artificers in town and farmers from the country, flattering 
themselves with the idea of leading easier lives, turn shop-keepers, 
the whole natural quantity of that business divided among them 
all may afford too small a share for each, and occasion complaints 
that trade is dead ; these may also suppose that it is owing to 
scarcity of money, while, in fact, it is not so much from the few- 
ness of buyers as from the excessive number of sellers that the 
mischief arises ; and, if every shop-keeping farmer and mechanic 
would return to the use of his plough and working-tools, there 
would remain of widows, and other women, shop-keepers sufficient 
for the business, which might then afibrd them a comfortable 
maintenance. 

A^Hioever has travelled through the various parts of Europe, and 
observed how small is the proportion of people in afiiuence or 
easy circumstances there, compared with those in poverty and 
misery, — the few rich and haughty landlords, the nuiltitude of 
poor, abject, rack-rented, tithe-paying tenants, and half-paid and 
halt-starved ragged laborers, — and views here the happy medioc- 
rity that so generally prevails throughout these states, where the 
cultivator works for himself, and supports his family in decent 
plenty, will, methinks, see abundant reason to bless Divine Provi- 
dence for the evident and great difference in our favor, and be 
convinced that no nation known to us enjoys a greater share of 
human felicity. 

It is true that in some of the states there are parties and dis- 
cords ; but, let us look back, and ask if we were ever without 
them. Such will exist wherever there is liberty ; and perhaps 
they help to preserve it. By the collision of different sentiments, 
sparks of truth are struck out, and political light is obtained. 
The different factions, which at present divide us, aim all at the 
public good : the differences are only about the various mode?; of 
promoting it. Things, actions, measures, and objects of all kinds, 
present themselves to the minds of men in such a variety of lights, 
that it is not possible we should all think alike at the same time 
on every subject, when hardly the same man retains at all times 



384 franklin's select works. 

the same ideas of it. Parties are therefore the common lot of 
humanity ; and ours are by no means more mischievous or less 
beneficial than those of other countries, nations and ages, enjoy- 
ing in the same degree the great blessing of political libert3^ 

Some, indeed, among us are not so much grieved for the present 
state of our affairs as apprehensive for the future. The growth of 
luxury alarms them, and they think we are, from that alone, in the 
high road to ruin. They observe that no revenue is sufficient 
without economy, and that the most plentiful income of a whole 
people from the natural productions of their country may be dissi- 
pated in vain and needless expenses, and poverty be introduced 
in the place of affluence. This may be possible. It, however, 
rarely happens : for there seems to be in every nation a greater 
proportion of industry and frugality, which tend to enrich, than 
of idleness and prodigality, which occasion poverty ; so that, 
upon the whole, there is a continual accumulation. 

Reflect what Spain, Gaul, Germany and Britain, were in the 
time of the Romans, inhabited by people little richer than our 
savages; and consider the wealth they at present possess, in 
numerous well-built cities, improved farms, rich movables, mag- 
azines stocked with valuable manufactures, to say nothing of 
plate, jewels, and coined money ; and all this notwithstanding 
their bad, wasting, plundering governments, and their mad, de- 
structive wars; and yet luxury and extravagant living has never 
suffered much restraint in those countries. Then consider the 
great proportion of industrious, frugal farmers inhabiting the inte- 
rior parts of these American States, and of whom the body of our 
nation consists, and judge whether it is possible that the luxury 
of our sea-ports can be sufficient to ruin such a country. If the 
importation of foreign luxuries could ruin a people, we should prob- 
ably have been ruined long ago ; for the British nation claimed a 
right, and practised it, of importing among us not only the super- 
fluities of their own production, but those of every nation under 
heaven ; we bought and consumed them, and yet we flourished 
and grew rich. At present our independent governments may do 
what we could not then do, — discourage by heavy duties, or pre- 
vent by heavy prohibitions, such importations, and thereby grow 
richer ; if, indeed, — which may admit of dispute, — the desire of 
adorning ourselves with fine clothes, possessing fine furniture, 
with elegant houses, &c., is not, by strongly inciting to labor and 
industry, the occasion of producing a greater value than is 
consumed in the gratification of that desire 

The agriculture and fisheries of the United States are the 
great sources of our increasing wealth. He that puts a seed into 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 385 

the earth is recompensed, perhaps, by receiving forty out of it ; 
and he who draws a fish out of our water draws up a piece of 
silver. 

Let us (and there is no doubt but we shall) be attentive to 
these, and then the power of rivals, with all their restraining and 
prohibiting acts, cannot much hui't us. We are sons of the earth 
and seas ; and, like Antteus in the fible, if, in wrestling with a 
Hercules, we now and then receive a fall, the touch of our parents 
will communicate to us fresh strength and vigor to renew the 
contest. 



[From the Pennsylvania Gazette, No. 409, Oct. 14, 1736.] 

ON DISCOVERIES. 

The world, but a few ages since, was in a very poor condition 
as to trade and navigation, nor indeed were they much better in 
other matters of useful knowledge. It was a green-headed 
time. Every useful improvement was hid from them ; they had 
neither looked into heaven nor earth, into the sea nor land, as 
has been done since. They had philosophy without experiments, 
mathematics without instruments, geometry without scale, astron- 
omy without demonstration. 

They made war without powder, shot, cannon or mortars; 
nay, the mob made their bonfires without squibs or crackers. 
They went to sea without compass, and sailed without the needle. 
They viewed the stars without telescopes, and measured lati- 
tudes without observation. Learning had no printing-press, 
writing no paper, and paper no ink ; the lover was forced to send 
his mistress a deal board for a love-letter, and a billet-doux 
might be the size of an ordinary trencher. They were clothed 
without manufacture, and their richest robes were the skins of 
the most formidable monsters; they carried on trade without 
books, and correspondence without posts ; their merchants kept 
no accounts, their shop-keepers no cash-books ; they had surgery 
without anatomy, and physicians without the materia medica ; 
they gave emetics without ipecacuanha, drew blisters without 
cantharides, and cured agues without the bark. 

As for geographical discoveries, they had neither seen the 
North Cape nor the Cape of Good Hope south. All the dis- 
covered inhabited world which they knew and conversed with 
was circumscribed within very narrow limits, namely, France, 
Britain, Spain, Italy, Germany and Greece; the Lesser Asia, 
33 



386 franklin's select works. 

the west part of Persia, Arabia, the north parts of Africa, and 
the islands of the Mediterranean Sea ; and this was the whole 
world to them ; — not that even these countries were fully known, 
neither, and several parts of them not inquired into at all. 
Germany was known little further than the banks of the Elbe ; 
Poland as little beyond the Vistula, or Hungary a little beyond 
the Danube ; Muscovy, or Russia, perfectly unknown, as much as 
China beyond it, and India only by a little commerce upon the 
coast about Surat and Malabar ; Africa had been more unknown, 
but, by the. ruin of the Carthagenians, all the western coast of it 
was sunk out of knowledge again, and forgotten ; the northern 
coast of Africa, in the Mediterranean, remained known, and 
that was all, for the Saracens, overrunning the nations which 
were planted there, ruined commerce as well as religion ; the 
Baltic Sea was not discovered, nor even the navigation of it 
known, for the Teutonic knights came not thither till the 13th 
century. 

America was not heard of, nor so much as a suggestion in the 
minds of men that any part of the world lay that way. The 
coasts of Greenland or Spitzbergen, and the whale-fishing, not 
known ; the best navigators in the world, at that time, would 
have fled from a whale with much more fright and horror than 
from the devil in the most terrible shapes they had been told 
he appeared in. 

The coasts of Angola, Congo, the Gold and the Grain coasts, on 
the west side of Africa, from whence since that time such immense 
wealth has been drawn, not discovered, nor the least inquiry 
made after them. All the East India and China trade, not only 
undiscovered, but out of the reach of expectation ! Coffee and 
tea (those modern blessings of mankind) had never been heard 
of: all the unbounded ocean we now call the South Sea was 
hid and unknown : all the Atlantic Ocean, beyond the mouth of 
the Straits, was frightful and terrible in the distant prospect, 
nor durst any one peep into it, otherwise than as they might 
creep along the coast of Africa towards Sallee, or Santa Cruz. 
The North Sea was hid in a veil of impenetrable darkness ; the 
White Sea, or Archangel, was a very modern discovery, not found 
out till Sir Hugh Willoughby doubled the North Cape, and paid 
dear for the adventure, being frozen to death with all his crew on 
the coast of Lapland, while his companion's ship, with the famous 
Mr. Chancellor, went on to the Gulf of Russia, called the ij 
White Sea, where no Christian strangers had ever been before | 
him. 

In these narrow circumstances stood the world's knowledo-e at 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 38T 

the beginning of the fifteenth century, when men of genius bogan 
to look abroad and about them. Now, as it was wonderful to 
see a world so full of people, and people so capable of improv- 
ing, yet so stupid and so blind, so ignorant and so perfectly un- 
improved, it was wonderful to see with what a general alacrity 
they took the alarm almost all together ; preparing themselves, as 
It were, on a sudden, by a general inspiration, to spread knowl- 
edge through the earth, and to search into everything that it was 
impossible to uncover. 

How surprising is it to look back, so little a way behind us, 
and see that even in less than two hundred years all this (now 
so self-wise) part of the world did not so much as know whether 
there was any such place as a Russia, a China, a Guinea, a 
Greenland, or a North Cape ! That, as to America, it was never 
supposed there was any such place ; neither had the world, 
though they stood upon the shoulders of four thousand years' 
experience, the least thought so much as that there was any 
land that way ! 

As they were ignorant of places, so of things also ; so vast 
are the improvements of science, that all our knowledge of 
mathematics, of nature, of the brightest part of human wisdom, 
had their admission among us within these two last centuries. 

What was the world, then, before ? And to what were the 
heads and hands of mankind applied ? The rich had no com- 
merce, the poor no employment ; war and the sword was the 
great field of honor, — the stage of preferment, — and you have 
scarce a man eminent in the world for anything before that 
time, but for a furious, outrageous falling upon his fellow-creat- 
ures, like Nimrod and his successors of modern memory. 

The world is now daily increasing in experimental knowledge ; 
and let no man flatter the age with pretending we have arrived 
to a perfection of discoveries. 

" "What 's now discovered only serves to show 
That nothing 's known, to what is yet to know." 



POSITIONS TO BE EXAMINED CONCERNING NATIONAL 

WEALTH. 

1. All food or subsistence for mankind arise from the earth 
or waters, 

2. Necessaries of life that are not food, and all other con- 



388 franklin's select works. 

veniences, have their value esthnated by the proportion of food 
consumed while we are employed in procuring them. 

3. A small people, with a large territory, may subsist on the 
productions of nature, with no other labor than of gathering the 
vesietables and catehinoj the animals. 

4. A large people, with a small territory, finds these insuffi- 
cient, and, to subsist, must labor the earth to make it produce 
greater quantities of vegetable food suitable for the nourish- 
ment of men, and of the animals they intend to eat. 

5. From this labor arises a great increase of vegetable and 
animal food, and of materials for clothing, as flax, wool, silk, 
&c. The superfluity of these is wealth. With this wealth we 
pay for the labor employed in building our houses, cities, &c., 
which are, therefore, only subsistence thus metamorphosed. 

6. Manufactures are only another shape into which so much 
provisions and subsistence are turned as were equal in value to 
the manufactures produced. This appears, from hence, that the 
manufacturer does not, in fact, obtain from the employer for his 
labor more than a mere subsistence, including raiment, fuel and 
shelter : all which derive their value from the provisions con- 
sumed in procuring them. 

7. The produce of the earth, thus converted into manufac- 
tures, may be more easily carried to distant markets than before 
such conversion. 

8. Fair commerce is where equal values are exchanged for 
equal, the expense of transport included. Thus, if it costs A 
in England as much labor and charge to raise a bushel of wheat 
as it costs B in France to produce four gallons of wine, then 
are four gallons of wine the fair exchange for a bushel of wheat, 
A and B meeting at half distance with their commodities to 
make the exchano-e. The advantasje of this fair commerce is 
that each party increases the number of his enjoyments, having, 
instead of wheat alone, or wine alone, the use of both wheat 
and wine. 

9. Where the labor and expense of producing both commodi- 
ties are known to both parties, bargains will generally be fair 
and equal. Where they are known to one party only, bargains 
will often be unequal, knowledge taking its advantage of igno- 
rance. 

10. Thus he that carries one thousand bushels of wheat 
abroad to sell may not probably obtain so great a profit thereon 
as if he had first turned the wheat into manufactures, by sub- 
sisting therewith the workmen while producing those manufac- 
tures : since there are many expediting and facilitating methods 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 389 

of working not generally known ; and strangers to the manufac- 
tures, though they know pretty well the expense of raising 
wheat, are unacquainted with those short methods of working, 
and thence, being apt to suppose more labor employed in the 
manufactures than there really is, are more easily imposed on in 
their value, and induced to allow more for them than they are 
honestly worth. 

11. Thus the advantage of having manufactures in a country 
does not consist, as is commonly supposed, in their highly advanc- 
ing the value of rough materials, of which they are formed ; 
since, though sixpenny-worth of flax may be worth twenty shil- 
lings when worked into lace, yet the very cause of its being 
worth twenty shillings is, that, besides the flax, it has cost nine- 
teen shillings and sixpence in subsistence to the manufacturer. 
But the advantage of manufactures is, that under their shape 
provisions may be more easily carried to a foreign market, and 
by their means our traders may more easily cheat strangers. 
Few, where it is not made, are judges of the value of lace. The 
importer may demand forty, and perhaps get thirty shillings, 
for that which cost him but twenty. 

12. Finally, there seem to be but three ways for a nation to 
acquire wealth. The first is by war^ as the Romans did, by 
plundering their conquered neighbors. This is robbery. The 
second by commerce^ which is generally cheating. The third by 
agriculture^ the only honest way, wherein man receives a real 
increase of the seed thrown into the ground, in a kind of continual 
miracle, wrought by the hand of God, in his favor, as a reward 
for his innocent life and his virtuous industry. 

April 4, 1769. 



[From the Pennsylvania Gazette, April 8, 1736.] 

GOVERNMENT. 

An ancient sage of the law"^ says, — the king can do no wrong ; 
for if he doeth wrong he is not the king.t And, in another 
place, — when the king doth justice he is God's vicar, but when 
he doth unjustly he is the agent of the devil. 1^ The politeness 

* Bracton cle leg. Angl. An author of great weight, contemporary with 
Henry III. 

t Rex non facit injuriam, qui si facit injuriam, non est rex. 

j^ Duin facit justitiani vicarius est regis aeterni minister autere diaboll 
dum declinet ad injuriam. 

33^ 



390 franklin's select works. 

of the latter times has given a softer turn to the expression. It 
is now said, the king can do no wrongs but his ministers may. 
In allusion to this, the Parliament of 1741 declared they made 
war against the king for the king's service. But his majesty 
affirmed that such a distinction was absurd ; though, by the way, 
his own creed contained a greater absurdit}^ for he believed he 
had an authority from God to oppress the subjects, whom by the 
same authority he was obliged to cherish and defend. Aristotle 
calls all princes tyrants, from the moment they set up an interest 
different from that of their subjects; and this is the onl}^ defini- 
tion he gives us of tyranny. Our own countrymen, before cited, 
and the sagacious Greek, both agree on this point, that a gov- 
ernor who acts contrary to the ends of government loses the 
title bestowed on him at his institution. It would be highly im- 
proper to give the same name to things of different qualities, 
or that produce different effects ; matter, while it communicates 
heat, is generally called y^re, but when the flames are extinguished 
the appellation is changed. Sometimes, indeed, the same 
sound serves to express things of a contrary nature ; but that 
only denotes a defect, or poverty in the language. 

A wicked prince imagines that the crown receives a new 
lustre from absolute power, whereas every step he takes to 
obtain it is a forfeiture of the crown. 

His condact is as foolish as it is detestable; he aims at glory 
and power, and treads the path that leads to dishonor and con- 
tempt ; he is a plague to his country, and deceives himself. 

During the inglorious reigns of the Stuarts (except a part of 
Queen Anne's) it was a perpetual struggle between them and the 
people ; those endeavoring to subvert, and these bravely oppos- 
ing the subverters of liberty. What were the consequences ? 
One lost his life on the scaffold, another was banished. The 
memory of all of them stinks in the nostrils of every true lover 
of his country ; and their history stains with indelible blots the 
English annals. 

The reign of Queen Elizabeth furnishes a beautiful contrast. 
All her views centred in one object, which was the public 
good. She made it her study to gain the love of her subjects, 
not by flattery or little soothing arts, but by rendering them 
substantial favors. It was far from her policy to encroach on 
their privileges ; she augmented and secured them. 

And it is remarked to her eternal honor that the acts present- 
ed to her for her royal approbation (forty or fifty of a session 
of Parliament) were signed without any examining further thac 
the titles. This wise and good queen only reigned for her peo^ 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 391 

pie, and knew that it was absurd to imagine tliey would promote 
anything contrary to their own interests, which she so studi- 
ously endeavored to advance. On the other hand, when this 
queen asked money of the Parliament, they frequently gave her 
more than she demanded, and never inquired how it was dis- 
posed of, 3xcejDt for form's sake, being fully convinced she would 
not employ it but for the general welfare. Happy princess, 
happy people ! what harmony, what mutual confidence ! Sec- 
onded by the hearts and purses of her subjects, she crushed the 
exorbitant power of Spain, which threatened destruction to 
England and chains to all Europe. That monarchy has ever 
since pined under the stroke, so that now, when we send a man- 
of-war or two to the West Indies, it puts her into such a panic 
fright, that if the galleons can steal home she sings Te Deum 
as for a victory. 

This is a true picture of governments ; its reverse is tyranny. 



MORALS OF CHESS. 

Playing at chess is the most ancient and most universal game 
known among men ; for its original is beyond the memory of 
history, and it has, for numberless ages, been the amusement of 
all the civilized nations of Asia, the Persians, the Indians, and 
the Chinese. Europe has had it above a thousand years ; the 
Spaniards have spread it over their part of America ; and it has 
lately begun to make its appearance in the United States. It is 
so interesting in itself as not to need the view of gain to induce 
engaging in it, and thence it is seldom played for money. Those, 
therefore, who have leisure for such diversions, cannot find one 
that is more innocent ; and the following piece, written with a 
view to correct (among a few young friends) some little impro- 
prieties in the practice of it, shows at the same time that it may, 
in its effects on the mind, be not merely innocent, but advan- 
tageous to the vanquished as well as the victor : 

The game of chess is not merely an idle amusement. Several 
very valuable qualities of the mind, useful in the course of 
human life, are to be acquired or strengthened by it, so as to 
become habits, ready on all occasions. For life is a kind of 
chess, in which we have often points to gain, and competitors or 
adversaries to contend with, and in which there is a vast varietj^ 
of good and evil events, ^hat are in some degree the effects of 



892 franklin's select works. 

prudence or tlie want of it. Bj playing at chess, then, we maj 
learn, 

I. Foresight, which looks a little into futurity, and considers 
the consequences that may attend an action ; for it is continually 
occurring to the player, " If I move this piece, what will be the 
advantage of my new situation ? What use can my adversary 
make of it to annoy me ? What other moves can I make to 
support it, and to defend myself from his attacks ? " 

II. Circumspectio7i, which surveys the whole chess-board or 
scene of action ; the relations of the several pieces and situa- 
tions, the dangers they are respectively exposed to, the several 
possibilities of their aiding each other, the probabilities that the 
adversary may make this or that move, and attack this or the 
other piece, and what different means can be used to avoid his 
stroke, or turn its consequences against him. 

III. Cmition, not to make our moves too hastily. This habit 
is best acquired by observing strictly the laws of the game; 
such as, "If you touch a piece, you must move it somewhere; 
if you set it down, you must let it stand;" and it is therefore 
best that these rules should be observed, as the game thereby 
becomes more the image of human life, and particularly of war ; 
in which, if you have incautiously put yourself into a bad and 
dangerous position, you cannot obtain your enemy's leave to 
withdraw your troops, and place them more securely, but you 
must abide all the consequences of your rashness. 

And, lastly, we learn by chess the habit of not being dis- 
couraged by present ajjpearances 171 the state of our affairs, the 
habit of hoping for a favorable change, and that oi persevering 
in the search of resources. The game is so full of events, there 
is such a variety of turns in it, the fortune of it is so subject to 
i^udden vicissitudes, and one so frequently, after long contem- 
plation, discovers the means of extricating one's self from a 
supposed insurmountable difficulty, that one is encouraged to 
continue the contest to the last, in hopes of victory by our own 
skill, or at least of getting a stale mate, by the negligence of our 
adversary. And, whoever considers, what in chess he often sees 
instances of, that particular pieces of success are apt to produce 
presumption, and its consequent inattention, by which the losses 
may be recovered, will learn not to be too much discouraged by 
the present success of his adversary, nor to despair of final good 
fortune upon every little check he receives in the pursuit of it 

That we may therefore be induced more frequently to choose 
this beneficial amusement, in preference to others which are not 
attended with the same advantages, every circumstance which 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 393 

may increase the pleasures of it should be regarded ; and every 
action or word that is unfair, disrespectful, or that in any way 
may give uneasiness, should be avoided, as contrary to the im- 
mediate intention of both the players, which is to pass the time 
agreeably. 

Therefore, first, if it is agreed to play according to the strict 
rules, then those rules are to be exactly observed by both parties, 
and should not be insisted on for one side, while deviated from 
by the other, for this is not equitable. 

Secondly, if it is agreed not to observe the rules exactly, but 
one party demands indulgences, he should then be as willing to 
allow them to the other. 

Thirdly, no false move should ever be made to extricate your- 
self out of difficulty, or to gain an advantage. There can be 
no pleasure in playing with a person once detected in such 
unfair practice. 

Fourthly, if your adversary is long in playing, you ought not 
to hurry him, or express any uneasiness at his delay. You 
should not sing, nor whistle, nor look at your watch, nor take 
up a book to read, nor make a tapping with your feet on the 
floor, or with your fingers on the table, nor do anything that 
may disturb his attention. For all these things displease ; and 
they do not show your skill in playing, but your craftiness or 
your rudeness. 

Fifthly, you ought not to endeavor to amuse and deceive your 
adversary, by pretending to have made bad moves, and saying 
that you have now lost the game, in order to make him secure 
and careless, and inattentive to your schemes ; for this is fraud 
and deceit, not skill in the game. 

Sixthly, you must not, when you have gained a victory, use 
any triumphing or insulting expression, nor show too much 
pleasure ; but endeavor to console your adversary, and make 
him less dissatisfied with himself, by every kind of civil expres- 
sion that may be used with truth, such as, " You understand 
the game better than I, but you are a little inattentive;" or, 
"You play too fast;" or, "You had the best of the game, but 
something happened to divert your thoughts, and that turned it 
in my favor." 

Seventhly, if you are a spectator while others play, observe 
the most perfect silence. For, if you give advice, you ofiend 
both parties, — him against whom you give it, because it may 
cause the loss of his game; him in whose favor you give it, be- 
cause, though it be good, and he follows it, he lo.'^es the pleasure 
he might have had, if 3'ou had permitted him to think until it 



o94 FRAiSTKLIN^S SELECT WOEKS. 

had occurred to himself. Even after a move or moves, yon 
must not, by replacing the pieces, show how they might have 
been placed better ; for that displeases, and may occasion dis- 
putes and doubts about their true situation. All talking to the 
players lessens or diverts their attention, and is therefore un- 
pleasing. Nor should you give the least hint to either party, by 
any kind of noise or motion. If you do, you are unworthy to 
be a spectator. If you have a mind to exercise or show your 
judgment, do it in playing your own game, when you ha\^e an 
opportunity, — not in criticizing, or meddling with, or counsel- 
ling the play of others. 

Lastly, if the game is not to be played rigorously, according 
to the rules above mentioned, then moderate your desire of vic- 
tory over your adversary, and be pleased with one over your- 
self. Snatch not eagerly at every advantage offered by his 
unskilfulness or inattention ; but point out to him kindly that 
by such a move he places or leaves a piece in danger and 
unsupported ; that by another he will put his king in a perilous 
situation, &c. By this generous civility (so opposite to the 
unfairness above forbidden) you may, indeed, happen to lose the 
game to your opponent ; but you will win what is better, his 
esteem, his respect, and his affection, together with the silent 
approbation and good-will of impartial spectators. 



A PARABLE ON PERSECUTION. 

1. And it came to pass, after these things, that Abraham sat 
in the door of his tent about the going down of the sun. 

2. And behold a man, bowed with age, came from the way of 
the wilderness, leaning on a staff. 

3. x\nd Abraham rose and met him, and said, " Turn in, I 
pray thee, and wash thy feet, and tarry all night, and thou shalt 
arise early in the morning and go on thy way." 

4. But the man said, " Nay, for I will abide under this tree." 

5. And Abraham pressed him greatly ; so he tui-ned, and they 
went into the tent, and Abraham baked unleavened bread, and 
they did eat. 

6. And when Abraham saw that the man blessed not God, he 
said unto him, " Wherefore dost thou not worship the most high 
God, creator of heaven and earth ? " 

7. And the man answered and said, " I do not worship the 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 395 

God thou speakest of, neither do I call upon his name; for I have 
made to myself a god, which abideth always in my house, and 
provideth me with all things." 

8. And Abraham's zeal was kindled against the man, and he 
arose and drove him forth with blows into the wilderness. 

9. And at midnight God called upon Abraham, saying, " Abra- 
ham, where is the stranger ? " 

10. And Abraham answered and said, " Lord, he would not 
worship thee, neither would he call upon thy name ; therefore I 
have driven him out before my face into the wilderness." 

11. And God said, "Have I borne with him these hundred nine- 
ty and eight years, and clothed him, notwithstanding his rebellion 
against me ; and couldst not thou, that art thyself a sinner, bear 
with him one night ? " 

12. And Abraham said, " Let not the anger of the Lord wax 
hot against his servant ; lo, I have sinned ; forgive me, I pray 
thee." 

13. And Abraham arose, and went forth into the wilderness, 
and sought diligently for the man, and found him, and returned 
with him to the tent ; and when he had entreated him kindly, he 
sent him away on the morrow with gifts. 

14. And God spake unto Abraham, saying, " For this thy sin 
shall thy seed be afflicted four hundred years in a strange land. 

15. "But for thy repentance will I deliver them; and they 
shall come forth with power and gladness of heart, and with 
much substance." "^ 

* The above parable -was published by Lord Karnes, in his " Sketches of 
the History of Man," with the following remark in relation to it : " It wa3 
communicated to me by Dr. Franklin, of Philadelphia, a man who makes a 
great figure in the learned world, and who would still make a greater figure 
for benevolence and candor, were virtue as much regarded in this declining 
age as knowledge." An absurd charge of plagiarism was brought against 
Franklin because of this parable, published without his knowledge, and for 
which he had never claimed originality. In a letter dated November 2, 
17b'J,to Benjamin Vaughan, he says : " The truth is, that I never published 
the pai'able, and never claimed more credit from it than what related to 
the style, and the addition of the concluding threatening and promise. The 
pub'ishing of it by Lord Kames, without my consent, deprived me of a good 
deal of amusement, which I used to take in reading it by heart out of any Bi- 
ble, and obtaining the remarks of the scripturians upon it, which were some- 
times very diverting : not but that it is in itself, on account of the importance 
of its moral, well worth being made known to all mankind." The substance 
of the story is as old as the day of the Persian poet Saadi. It is also related 
by Jeremy Taylor. 



396 franklin's select works. 



A PARABLE ON BROTHERLY LOVE. 

1. In those days there was no worker of iron in all the land. 
And the merchants of Midian passed by with their camels, bear- 
ing spices, and myrrh, and balm, and wares of iron. 

2. And Reuben bought an axe of the Ishmaelite merchants, 
which he prized highly, for there was none in his father's house. 

3. And Simeon said unto Reuben his brother, " Lend me, I 
pray thee, thine axe." But he refused, and would not. 

4. And Levi also said unto him, " My brother, lend me, I 
pray thee, thine axe ; " and he refused him also. 

5. Then came Judah unto Reuben, and entreated him, say- 
ing, " Lo, thou lovest me, and I have always loved thee ; do not 
refuse me the use of thine axe." 

6. But Reuben turned from him, and refused him likewise. 

7. Now it came to pass that Reuben hewed timber on the 
bank of the river, and his axe fell therein, and he could by 
no means find it. 

8. But Simeon, Levi and Judah, had sent a messenger after 
the Ishmaelites with money, and had bought for themselves 
each an axe. 

9. Then came Reuben unto Simeon, and said, " Lo, I have 
lost mine axe, and my work is unfinished; lend me thine, I 
pray thee." 

10. And Simeon answered him, saying, " Thou wouldst not 
lend me thine axe, therefore will I not lend thee mine." 

11. Then he went unto Levi, and said unto him, " My brother, 
thou knowest my loss and my necessity ; lend me, I pray thee, 
thine axe." 

12. And Levi reproached him, saying, " Thou wouldst not 
lend me thine axe when I desired it ; but I will be better than 
thou, and will lend thee mine." 

13. xAnd Reuben was grieved at the rebuke of Levi, and, being 
ashamed, turned from him, and took not the axe, but sought his 
brother Judah. 

14. And, as he drew near, Judah beheld his countenance as 
it were covered with grief and shame ; and he prevented him, 
saying, " My brother, I know thy loss ; but why should it trouble 
thee ? Lo, have I not an axe that will serve both thee and me ? 
Take it, I pray thee, and use it as thine own." 

15. And Reuben fell on his neck, and kissed him, with tears, 
saying, " Thy kindness is great, but thy goodness in forgiving 
me is greater. Thou art indeed my brother, and whilst I live 
will I surely love thee." 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 89T 

1^. And Judah said, " Let us also love our other brethren ; 
behold, are we not all of one blood ? " 

17. And Joseph saw these things, and reported them to his 
father Jacob. 

18. And Jacob said, " Eeuben did wrong, but he repented ; 
Simeon also did wrong ; and Levi was not altogether blameless. 

19. " But the heart of Judah is princely. Judah hath the 
soul of a kino;. His father's children shall bow down before 
him, and he shall rule over his brethren." 



[to MADAME BKILLON, OF PASSY.] 

THE EPHEMERA ; AN EMBLEM OF HUjNIAN LIFE. 

WRITTEN IN 1778. 

You may remember, my dear friend, that when we lately 
spent that happy day in the delightful garden and sweet society 
of the Moulin Joly, I stopped a little in one of our walks, and 
stayed some time behind the company. We had been shown 
numberless skeletons of a kind of little fly, called an ephemera, 
whose successive generations, we were told, were bred and ex- 
pired within the day. I happened to see a living company of 
them on a leaf, who appeared to be engaged in conversation. 
You know I understand all the inferior animal tongues. My 
too great application to the study of them is the best excuse I 
can give for the little progress I have made in your charming 
language. I listened, through curiosity, to the discourse of these 
little creatures ; but, as they, in their national vivacity, spoke 
three or four together, I could make but little of their conver- 
sation. I found, however, by some broken expressions that I 
heard now and then, they were disputing warmly on the merits 
of two foreign musicians, one a cousin, the other a moscheto ; 
in which dispute they spent their time, seemingly as regardless 
of the shortness of life as if they had been sure of living a 
month. Happy people ! thought I ; you are certainly under a 
wise, just, and mild government, since you have no public 
grievances to complain of, nor any subject of contention but the 
perfections and imperfections of foreign nuisic. I turned my head 
from them to an old gray-headed one, who was single on another 
leaf, and talking to himself. Being amused with his soliloquy, 
I put it down in writing, in hopes it will likewise amuse her to 
34 



398 franklin's select works. 

whom 1 am so mucli indebted for the most pleasing of all amuse- 
ments, her delicious company and heavenly harmony. 

" It was," said he, " the opinion of learned philosophers of 
our race, who lived and flourished long before my time, that 
this vast world, the Moulin Joly, could not itself subsist more 
than eighteen hours ; and I think there was some foundation for 
that opinion, since, by the apparent motion of the great luminary 
that gives life to all nature, and which in my time has evidently 
declined considerably towards the ocean at the end of our earth, 
it must then finish its course, be extinguished in the waters that 
surround us, and leave the world in cold and darkness, necessa- 
rily producing universal d,eath and destruction. I have lived 
seven of those hours, — a great age, being no less than four hun- 
dred and twenty minutes of time. How very few of us continue 
so long! I have seen generations born, flourish and expire. 
My present friends are the children and grand-children of the 
friends of my youth, who are now, alas, no more ! And I must 
soon follow them ; for, by the course of nature, though still in 
health, I cannot expect to live above seven or eight minutes 
longer. What now avails all my toil and labor, in amassing 
honey-dew on this leaf, which I cannot live to enjoy ! What 
the political strugles I have been engaged in, for the good of 
my compatriot inhabitants of this bush, ,or my philosophical 
studies for the benefit of our race in general ! for, in politics, 
what can laws do without morals ? Our present race of ephem- 
erae will in a course of minutes become corrupt, like those of 
other and older bushes, and consequently as wretched. And 
in philosophy how small our progress ! Alas ! art is long, 
and life is short ! My friends would comfort me with the idea 
of a name, they say, I shall leave behind me; and they tell me 
I have lived long enough to nature and to glory. But what 
will fame be to an ephemera who no longer exists ? And what 
will become of all history in the eighteenth hour, when the 
world itself, even the whole IMoulin Joly, shall come to its end, 
and be buried in universal ruin ? " 

To me, after all my eager pursuits, no solid pleasures now 
remain, but the reflection of a long life spent in meaning well, 
the sensible conversation of a few good lady ephemerse, and 
now and then a kind smile and a tune from the ever amiable 
Brillante. 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 39^ 

A DIALOGUE 

BFTWEEX BRITAIN, FRANCE, SPAIN, HOLLAND, SAXONY, AND AMERICA.* 

Britain. Sister of Spain, I have a favor to ask of you. My 
subjects in America are disobedient, and I am about to chastise 
them ; I beg 3^ou will not furnish them with any arms or ammu- 
nition. 

Spain. Have you forgotten, then, that when my subjects in 
the Low Countries rebelled against me, you not only furnished 
them with military stores, but joined them with an army and a 
fleet ? I wonder how you can have the impudence to ask such 
a favor of me, or the folly to expect it ! 

Britain. You, my dear sister France, will surely not refuse 
me this favor. 

France. Did you not assist my rebel Huguenots with a fleet 
and an army at Rochelle ? And have you not lately aided, pri- 
vately and sneakingly, my rebel subjects in Corsica? And do 
you not at this instant keep their chief pensioned, and ready to 
head a fresh revolt there, whenever you can find or make an 
opportunity ? Dear sister, you must be a little silly ! 

Britain. Honest Holland ! You see it is remembered I was 
once your friend ; you will therefore be mine on this occasion. 
I know, indeed, you are accustomed to smuggle with these rebels 
of mine. I will wink at that ; sell them as much tea as you 
please, to enervate the rascals, since they will not take it of me ; 
but, for God's sake, don't supply them with any arms ! 

Holland. 'T is true you assisted me against Philip, my 
tyrant of Spain; but have I not assisted you against one of your 
tyrants,! and enabled you to expel him ? Surely that account, 
as we merchants say, is balanced, and I am nothing in your 
debt. I have, indeed, some complaints against ynu, for endeav- 
oring to starve me by your Navigation Acts; but, being 
peaceably disposed, I do not quarrel with you for that. I shall 
only go on quietly with my own business. Trade is my pro- 
fession ; 't is all I have to subsist on. And, let me tell you, I 
shall make no scruple (on the prospect of a good market for 
that commodity) even to send my ships to Hell, and supply the 
Devil with brimstone. For, you must know, I can insure in 
London against the burning of my sails. 

* This satirical piece was written soon after Franklin's arrival in FrancOj 
as commissioner, at the beginning of the Revolutionary war. 
t James the Second. 



400 franklin's select works. 

America to Britain. Why, you old bloodthirsty bully ! You, 
who have been everywhere vaunting your own prowess, and 
defaming the Americans as poltroons ! You, who have boasted 
of being able to march over all their bellies with a single regi- 
ment! You, who by fraud have possessed yourself of their 
strongest fortress, a.nd all the arms they had stored up in it! 
You, who have a disciplined army in their country, intrenched 
to the teeth, and provided with everything ! Do you run about 
begging all Europe not to supply those poor people with a little 
powder and shot ? Do you mean, then, to fall upon them naked 
and unarmed, and butcher them in cold blood ? Is this your 
courage ? Is this your magnanimity ? 

Britain. ! you wicked — Whig — Presbyterian — Ser- 
pent ! Have you the impudence to appear before me, after all 
your disobedience ? Surrender immediately all your liberties 
and properties into my hands, or I will cut you to pieces ! Was 
it for this that I planted your country at so great an expense ? 
That I protected you in your infancy, and defended you against 
all your enemies? 

America. I shall not surrender my liberty and property, but 
with my life. It is not true that my country was planted at 
your expense. Your own records'^ refute that falsehood to 
your face. Nor did you ever afford me a man or a shilling to 
defend me against the Indians, the only enemies I had upon my 
own account. But. when you have quarrelled with all Europe, 
and drawn me with you into all your broils, then you value 
yourself upon protecting me from the enemies you have made 
for me. I have no natural cause of difference with Spain, 
France or Holland, and yet by turns I have joined with you in 
wars against them all. You would not suffer me to make or 
keep a sejDarate peace with any of them, though I might easily 
have done it to great advantage. Does your protecting me in 
those wars give you a right to fleece me ? If so, as 1 fought 
for you, as well as you for me, it gives me a proportionable 
right to fleece you. What think you of an American law to 
make a monopoly of you and your commerce, as you have done 
by your laws of me and mine ? Content yourself vv'ith that 
monopoly if you are wise, and learn justice if you would be 
respected ! 

* See the Journals of the House of Commons, 1642, namely : 

" Die Veneris, Martii 10^, 1642. 

*' Whereas, the plantations in New England have, by the blessing of A\ 
mighty God, had good and prosperous success without any jmblic charge to this 
Statey" &c. 



HIS MORAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. 401 

Britain. You impudent b li ! Am not I your mother 

country ? Is not that a sufficient titlf Xo your respect and 
obedience ? 

Saxony. Mother country ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! What respect 
have yoic the front to claim as a mother country ? You know 
that Jam your mother country, and yet you pay me none. Na}^ 
it is but the other day that you hired ruffians "^ to rob me on 
the highway,! and burn my house ! t For shame ! Hide your 
face, and hold your tongue ! If you continue this conduct, you 
will make yourself the contempt of Europe ! 

Bi'itain. Lord ! Where are my friends ? 

France^ Spain, Holland and Saxony, all together. Friends ! 
Believe us, you have none ; nor ever will have any, till you mend 
your manners. How can we, who are your neighbors, have any 
regard for you, or expect any equity from you, should your 
power* increase, when we see how basely and unjustly you have 
used both your own mother and your oivn children ? 



EXTRACTS. 

ox DUELS. 

Formerly, when duels were used to determine law-suits, from 
an opinion that Providence would in every instance favor truth 
and right with victory, they were excusable. At present, they 
decide nothino-. A man says somethino;, which another tells him 
is a lie. They fight ; but, whichever is killed, the point in dis- 
pute remains unsettled. To this purpose they have a pleasant 
little story here. A gentleman in a coffee-house desired another 
to sit further from him. " Why so ? " " Because, sir, you stink." 
" That is an affront, and you must fight me." " I will fight you, if 
you insist upon it ; but I do not see how that will mend the 
matter. For, if you kill me, I shall stink too ; and if I kill you, 
you will stink, if possible, worse than you do at present." How 
can such miserable sinners as we are entertain so much pride as 
to conceit that every offence against our imagined honor merits 
death ? These petty princes in their own opinion would call 
that sovereign a tyrant who should put one of them to death fof 

* Prussians. 

f They entered and raised contributions in Saxony. 

X And they burnt the tine suburbs of Dresden, the capital of Saxony. 



402 franklin's select works. 

a little uncivil language, though pointed at his sacred person 
yet every one of them makes himself judge in his own cause, 
condemns the offender without a jury, and undertakes himself to 
be the executioner. 



SIMPLICITY IN WPwITING. 

How shall we judge of the goodness of a writing ? or what 
qualities should a writing on any subject have, to be good and 
perfect in its kind ? 

Answer. To be good it ought to have a tendency to benefit the 
reader, by improving his virtue or his knowledge. The method 
should be just ; that is, it should proceed regularly from things 
known to things unknown, distinctly, clearly, and without con- 
fusion. The words used should be the most expressive that the 
language affords, provided they are the most generally under- 
stood. Nothing should be expressed in two words that can as 
well be expressed in one ; that is, no synonyms should be used, but 
the whole be as short as possible, consistent with clearness. The 
words should be so placed as to be agreeable to the ear in read- 
ing : summarily, it should be smooth, clear and short ; for the 
contrary qualities are displeasing. 



ADVANTAGES OF THE PRESS. 

The ancient Roman and Grreek orators could onlj^ speak to 
the number of citizens capable of being assembled within the 
reach of their voice ; their writings had little effect, because the 
btilk of the people could not read. Now by the press we can 
speak to nations ; and good books, and well-written pamphlets, 
have great and general influence. The facility with which the 
same truths may be repeatedly enforced by placing them in dif- 
ferent lights, in newspapers which are everywhere read, gives a 
great chance of establishing them. And we now find that it is 
not only right to strike while the iron is hot, but that it is very 
practicable to heat it by continual striking. 



CORRESPONDENCE. 



[to josiah franklin, boston,] 
A Man's Religion to be judged of by its Fruits — Freemasons. 

Philadelphia, April 13, 1738. 

Honored Father : I have your favors of the 21st of 
March, in which you both seem concerned lest I have imbibed 
some erroneous opinions. Doubtless I have my share, and when 
the natural weakness and imperfection of human understanding 
is considered, the unavoidable influence of education, custom, 
books and company, upon our ways of thinking, I imagine a 
man must have a good deal of vanity who believes, and a good 
deal of boldness who affirms, that all the doctrines he holds are 
true, and all he rejects are false. And, perhaps, the same may 
be justly said of every sect, church, and society of men, when 
they assume to themselves that infallibility which they deny to 
the pope and councils. 

I think opinions should be judged of by their influences and 
efi'ects; and if man holds none that tend to make him less vir- 
tuous or more vicious, it may be concluded he holds none that 
are dangerous, — which, I hope, is the case with me. 

I am sorry you should have any uneasiness on my account, 
and, if it were a thing possible for one to alter his opinions in 
order to please another's, I know none whom I ought more wil- 
lingly to oblige in that respect than yourselves. But, since it is 
no more in a man's power to think than to look like another, 
methinks all that should be expected from me is to keep my 
mind open to conviction ; to hear patiently, and examine atten- 
tively, whatever is ofiered me for that, end ; and, if after all I 
continue in the same errors, I believe your usual charity will 
induce you rather to pity and excuse than blame me : in the 
mean time your care and concern for me is what I am very 
thankful for. 

My mother grieves that one of her sons is an Arian, another 



404 franklin's select works. 

an Armlnian ; wbat an Arminian or an Arian is, I cannot sa^Jl 
that I very well know. The truth is, I make such distinctions 
very little my study. I think vital religion has always suf- 
fered when orthodoxy is more regarded than virtue ; and the 
Scriptures assure me that at the last day we shall not be exim- 
ined what we thought, but what we did ; and our recommenda- 
tion will not be that we said, Lord ! Lord ! but that we did 
good to our fellow-creatures. See Matt. xx. 

As to the freemasons, I know no way of giving my mother a 
better account of them than she seems to have at present (since 
it is not allowed that women should be admitted into that secret 
society). She has, I must confess, on that account, some reason 
to be displeased with it ; but, for anything else, I must entreat 
her to suspend her judgment till she is better informed, unless 
she will believe me when I assure her that they are in general 
a very harmless sort of people, and have no principles or prac- 
tices that are inconsistent with religion and good manners. 

We have had great rains here lately, which, with the thaw- 
ing of snow in the mountains back of our country, has made 
vast floods in our rivers, and, by carrying away bridges, boats, 
&c., made travelling almost impracticable for a week past ; so 
that our post has entirely missed making one trip. 

I hear nothing of Dr. Crook, nor can I learn any such person 
has ever been here. 

I hope my sister Jenny's child is by this time recovered. I 
am your dutiful son, B. Franklin. 



[to miss jane franklin.]* 
071 presenting a Spinning-wheel. 

Philadelphia, January 6, 1726-7. 
Dear Sister : I am highly pleased with the account Cap* 
tain Freeman gives me of you. I always judged, by your 
behavior when a child, that you would make a good, agreeable 
woman ; and you know you were ever my peculiar favorite. I 
have been thinking what would be a suitable present for me to 
make, and for you to receive, as I hear you are grown a cele- 
brated beauty. I had almost determined on a tea-table, but 
when I considered that the character of a good house-wife was 

* Afterwards Mrs. Mecom. She was fifteen years old at the above date 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 405 

far preferable to that of being only a pretty gentlewoman, I 
concluded to send you a spinning-wheel^ which I hope you wil , 
accept as a small token of my sincere love and affection. 

Sister, farewell, and remember that modesty, as it makes the 
most homely virgin amiable and charming, so the want of it 
infallibly renders the most perfect beauty disagreeable and 
odious. But when that brio-htest of female virtues shines among 
other perfections of body and mind in the same person, it makes 
the woman more lovely than an angel. Excuse this freedom, 
and use the same with me. I am, dear Jenny, your loving 
brother. B. Franklin. 



[to the same.] 

Religious Notions — Doctrine and Worship. 

Philadelphia, July 28, 1743. 

Dearest Sister Jenny: I took your admonition very kindly, 
and was ftir from being offended at you for it. If I say any- 
thing about it to you, 'tis only to rectify some wrong opinions 
you seem to have entertained of me ; and this I do only because 
they give you some uneasiness, which I am unwilling to be the 
occasion of. You express yourself as if you thought I was 
against worshipping of Grod, and doubt that good works would 
merit heaven; which are both fancies of your own, I think, 
without foundation. I am so far from thinking that God is not 
to be worshipped, that I have composed and wrote a whole book 
of devotions for my own use; and I imagine there are few if any 
in the world so weak as to imagine that the little good we can 
do here can merit so vast a reward hereafter. 

There are some things in your New England doctrine and 
worship which I do not agree with ; but I do not therefore con- 
denm them, or desire to shake j'our belief or practice of them. 
We may dislike things that are nevertheless right in themselves ; 
I would only have you make me the same allowance, and have a 
better opinion both of morality and your brother. Read the 
pages of Mr. Edwards's late book, entitled, "Some Thoughts 
concerning the present Revival of Religion in New England," 
from o67 to 375, and, when you judge of others, if you can per- 
ceive the fruit to be good, don't terrify yourself that the tree 
may be evil ; but be assured it is not so, tor you know who has 
said. "Men do not gather grapes off thorns, and figs off thistles." 



406 franklin's select works. 

I have not time to add, but that I shall always be your affec- 
tionate brother, B. Franklin. 

P. S. It was not kind in you, when your sister commended 
good works, to suppose she intended it a reproach to you. 'T was 
very far from her thoughts. 



[to JAMES READ.] 

On Differences between Man and Wife. 

Saturday morning, 17 August, 1745. 

Dear Jemmy : I have been reading your letter over again, 
and, since you desire an answer, I sit down to write you one ; 
yet, as I write in the market, it will, I believe, be but a short one, 
though I may be long about it. I approve of your method of 
writing one's mind, when one is too warm to speak it with temper : 
but, being quite cool myself in this affair, I might as well speak 
as write, if I had an opportunity. 

Are you an attorney by proiession, and do you know no better 
how to choose a proper court in which to bring your action ? 
Would you submit to the decision of a husband a cause between 
you and his wife ? Don't you know that all wives are in the 
right ? It may be you don't, for you are yet but a young hus- 
band. But see, on this head, the learned Coke, that oracle of 
the law, in his chapter De Jur. Marit. Angl. I advise you not 
to bring it to trial ; for, if you do, you will certainly be cast. 

Frequent interruptions make it impossible for me to go through 
all your letter. I have only time to remind you of the saying 
of that excellent old philosopher, Socrates, that, in differe?ices 
among friends, they that make the first co?icessio?is are the wisest ; 
and to hint to you that you are in danger of losing that honor 
in the present case, if you are not very speedy in your acknowl- 
edgments, which I persuade myself you will be, when you con- 
sider the sex of your adversary. 

Your visits never had but one thing disagreeable in them ; that 
is, they were always too short. I shall exceedingly regret the 
loss of them, unless you continue, as you have begun, to make it 
up to me by long letters. 

I am, dear Jemmy, with sincere love to our dearest Suky, your 
very affectionate friend and cousin, B. Franklin. 



niS CORRESPONDEI^CE. 40T 

[to peter collinson.] 

English Poor Laws — Amending the Scheme of Providence — Anec- 
dotes — Aversion from Labor among American Indians — Germans 
in Pennsylvania — Their Peculiarities — Hopes for England. 

Philadelphia, 9 May, 1753. 
Sir : I thank jou for the kind and judicious remarks jou 
have made on my little piece. I have often observed with won- 
der the temper of the poorer English laborers which you mention, 

/and acknowledge it to be pretty general. When any of them hap- 
pen to come here, where labor is much better paid than in Eng- 
land, their industry seems to diminish in equal proportion. But 
it is not so with the German laborers. They retain the habitual 
industry and frugality they bring with them, and, receiving higher 
wages, an accumulation arises that makes them all rich. When 
I consider that the English are the offspring of Germans, that 
the climate they live in is much of the same temperature, and 
when I see nothing in nature that should create this difference, 
I am tempted to suspect it must arise from the constitution ; and 
I have sometimes doubted whether the laws peculiar to England, 
ivhich compel the rich to maintain the poor^ have not given the 
latter a dependence that very much lessens the care of providing 
against the wants of old age. 

I have heard it remarked that the poor in Protestant countries, 
on the continent of Europe, are generally more industrious than 
those of Popish countries. / May not the more numerous found- 

•^ations-in the latter for relief of the poor have some effect 
towards rendering them less provident ? To relieve the misfor- 
tunes of our fellow-creatures is concurring with the Deity; it is 
godlike; but, if we provide encouragement for laziness, and 
support for folly, may we not be found fighting against the order 
of God and nature, which perhaps has appointed want and misery 
as the proper punishments for and cautions against, as well as 
necessary consequences of idleness and extravagance ? When- 
ever we attempt to amend the scheme of Providence, and to in- 
terfere with the government of the world, we had need be very 
circumspect, lest we do more harm than good. In New England 
they once thought blackbirds useless, and mischievous to the corn. 
They made efforts to destroy them. The consequence was, the 
blackbirds were diminished ; but a kind of worm which devoured 
their grass, and which the blackbirds used to feed on, increased 
prodigiously ; then, tinding their loss in grass much greater than 

v. their saving in corn, they wished again for their blackbirds. 
^ We had here some years since a Transylvaniau Tartar, who 



403 franklin's select works. 

had travelled much in the East, and came hither merely to see 
the West, intending to go home through the Spanish West Indies, 
China, &3. He asked me, one day, what I thought might be the 
reason that so many and such numerous nations as the Tartars 
in Europe and Asia, the Indians in America, and the Negroes in 
Africa, continued a wandering, careless life, and refused to live 
in cities, and cultivate the arts they saw practised by the civilized 
parts of mankind. AVhile I was considering what answer to 
make him, he said, in his broken English, " God make man for 
Paradise. He make him for live lazy. Man make God angry. 
God turn him out of Paradise, and bid workee. Man no love 
workee ; he want to go to Paradise again ; he want to live lazy. 
So all mankind love lazy." However this may be, it seems cer- 
tain that the hope of becoming at some time of life free from the 
necessity of care and labor, together with fear and penury, are the 
main springs of most people's industry. To those, indeed, who 
have been educated in elegant plenty, even the provision made for 
the poor may appear misery ; but to those who have scarce ever 
been better provided for, such provision may seem quite good 
and sufficient. These latter, then, have nothing to fear worse 
than their present condition, and scarce hope for anything better 
than a parish maintenance. So that there is only the difficulty 
of getting that maintenance allowed while they are able to work, 
or a little shame they suppose attending it, that can induce them 
to work at all ; and what they do will only be from hand to 
mouth. 

The proneness of human nature to a life of ease, of f];eedom 
from care and labor, appears strongly in the little success that 
has hitherto attended every attempt to civilize our American In- 
dians. In their present way of living, almost all their wants 
are supplied by the spontaneous productions of nature, with the 
addition of very little labor, if hunting and fishing may indeed 
be called labor, where game is so plenty. They visit us frequently, 
and see the advantages that arts, sciences, and compact societies, 
procure us. They are not deficient in natural understanding ; 
and yet they have never shown any inclination to change their 
manner of life for ours, or to learn any of our arts. When an 
Indian child has been brought up among us, taught our language, 
and habituated to our customs, yet, if he goes to see his relatives, 
and makes one Indian ramble with them, there is no persuading 
him ever to return. And that this is not natural to them merely 
as Indians, but as men, is plain from this, — that when white per- 
sons, of either sex, have been taken prisoners by the Indians, and 
lived a while with them, though ransomed by their friends, and 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 409 

treated with all imaginable tenderness, to prevail with them to 
stay among the English, yet in a short time they become disgusted 
with our manner of life, and the care and pains that are neces- 
sary to support it, and take the first opportunity of escaping 
again into the woods, from whence there is no redeeming them. 
One instance I remember to have heard, where the person was 
brought home to possess a good estate ; but, finding some care 
necessary to keep it together, he relinquished it to a younger 
brother, reserving to himself nothing but a gun and a match-coat, 
with which he took his way again into the wilderness. 

So that I am apt to imagine that close societies, subsisting by 
labor and art, arose first not from choice, but from necessity, 
wheii numbers, being driven by war from their hunting-grounds, 
and prevented by seas, or by other nations, from obtaining other 
hunting-grounds, were crowded together into some narrow terri- 
tories, which without labor could not afi'ord them food. How- 
ever, as matters now stand with us, care and industry seem 
absolutely necessary to our well-being. They should therefore 
have every encouragement we can invent, and not one motive to 
diligence be subtracted ; and the support of the poor should not 
be by maintaining them in idleness, but by employing them 
in some kind of labor suited to their abilities of body, as I am in- 
formed begins to be of late the practice in many parts of England, 
where workhouses are erected for that purpose. If these were 
general, I should think the poor would be more careful, and work 
voluntarily to lay up something for themselves against a rainy 
day, rather than run the risk of being obliged to work at the 
pleasure of others for a bare subsistence, and that too under con- 
finement. 

The little value Indians set on what we prize so highly, under 
the name of learning, appears from a pleasant passage that hap- 
pened some years since at a treaty between some colonies and 
the Six Nations. When everything had been settled to the sat- 
isfaction of both sides, and nothing remained but a mutual ex- 
change of civilities, the English commissioners told the Indians 
that they had in their country a college for the instruction of 
youth, who were there taught various languages, arts and sciences ; 
that there was a particular foundation in favor of the Indians, to 
defray the expense of the education of any of their sons who 
should desire to take the benefit of it ; and said, if the Indians 
would accept the ofier, the English would take half a dozen of 
their brightest lads, and bring them up in the best manner. The 
Indians, after consulting on the proposals, replied that it was re- 
35 



410 franklin's select woeks. 

membered tliat some of their youths had formerly been educated 
at that college, but that it had been observed that for a longtime 
after they returned to their friends they vere ahwlutehj good, 
for nctldng ; being neither acquainted with the true methods of 
killing deer, catching beavers, or surprising an enemy. The 
proposition they looked on, however, as a mark of kindness and 
good-will of the English to the Indian nations, which merited a 
grateful return ; and therefore, if the English gentlemen would 
send a dozen or two of their children to Onondago, the Great 
Council would take care of their education, bring them up in 
V what was really the best manner, and make men of them. 

I am perfectly of your mind, that measures of great temper 
are necessary with the Germans ; and am not without apprehen- 
sions that, through their indiscretion, or ours, or both, great dis- 
orders may one day arise among us. Those who come hither are 
generally the most stupid of their ow^n nation, and, as ignorance 
is often attended with credulity when knavery would mislead it, 
and with suspicion when honesty would set it right, — and as few 

of the Eno-lish understand the German language, and so cannot 

. ... 

address them either from the press or the pulpit, — it is almost 

impossible to remove any prejudices they may entertain. Their 
clergy have very little influence on the people, who seem to take 
a pleasure in abusing and discharging the minister on every trivial 
occasion. Not being used to liberty, they know not how to make 
a modest use of it. And, as Kolben says of the young Hotten- 
tots, that they are not esteemed men until they have shown their 
manhood by heating their mothers, so these seem not to think them- 
selves free till they can feel their liberty in abusing and insulting 
their teachers. Thus they are under no restraint from ecclesiasti- 
cal government ; they behave, however, submissively enough at 
present to the civil government, which I wish they may continue 
to do, for I remember when they modestly declined intermeddling 
in our elections, but now they come in droves and carry all before 
them, except in one or two counties. 

Few of their children in the country know English. They im- 
port many books from Germany ; and of the six printing-houses 
in the province two are entirely German, two half-German half- 
English, and but two entirely English. They have one German 
newspaper, and one half-German. Advertisements intended to 
be general are now printed in Dutch and English. The signs in 
our streets have inscriptions in both languages, and in some places 
pnly German. They begin of late to make all their bonds and 
other legal instruments in their own language, which (though I 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 411 

think it ought not to be) are allowed good in our courts, where 
the German business so increases that there is continued need of 
interpreters; and I suppose in a few years they will also be 
necessary in the Assembly, to tell one-half of our legislators what 
the other half say. 

In short, unless the stream of their importation could be turned 
from this to other colonies, as you very judiciously propose, 
they will soon so outnumber us that all the advantages we have 
will, in my opinion, be not able to preserve our language, and even 
our government will become precarious. The French, who watch 
all advantages, are now themselves making a German settlement, 
back of us, in the Illinois country, and by means of these Ger- 
mans they may in time come to an understanding with ours ; and, 
indeed, in the last war our Germans showed a general disposi- 
tion that seemed to bode us no good. For, when the Enp-lish 
who were not Quakers, alarmed by the danger arising from the 
defenceless state of our country, entered unanimously into an 
association, and within this government and the low counties 
raised, armed, and disciplined near ten thousand men, the Ger- 
mans, except a very few in proportion to their number, refused 
to engage in it, giving out, one amongst another, and even in 
print, that, if they were quiet, the French, should they take the 
country, would not molest them ; at the same time abusing the 
Philadelphians for fitting out privateers against the enemy, and 
representing the trouble, hazard and expense, of defending the 
province, as a greater inconvenience than any that might be ex- 
pected from a change of government. Yet I am not for refusing 
to admit them entirely into our colonies. All that seems to 
me necessary is, to distribute them more equally, mix them with 
the English, establish English schools where they are now too 
thick-settled ; and take some care to prevent the practice, lately 
fallen into by some of the ship-owners, of sweeping the German 
jails to make up the number of their passengers. I say, I am 
not against the admission of Germans in general, for they have 
their virtues. Their industry and frugality are exemplary. They 
are excellent husbandmen, and contribute greatly to the improve- 
ment of a country. 

I pray God to preserve long to Great Britain the English laws, 
manners, liberties, and religion. Notwithstanding the complaints 
so frequent in your public papers of the prevailing corruption 
and degeneracy of the people, I know you have a great deal of 
virtue still subsisting among you, and I hope the consti^iition is 
not so near a dissolution as some seem to apprehend. I do not 



412 franklin's select works. 

think you are generally become sucli slaves to your vices as to 
draw down the justice Milton speaks of, when he says, that — ^ 



[to GEORGE WHITEFIELD.]* 

Good Works — On Meriting Heaven — Prayers and Deeds — Exam' 

pie of Christ. 

PmiiADELPraA, June G, 1753. 

Sir : I received your kind letter of the 2d instant, and am 
glad to hear that you increase in strength ; I hope you will con- 
tinue mending, till you recover your former health and firmness. 
Let me know whether you still use the cold bath, and what efifect 
Lfc has. 

As to the kindness you mention, I wish it could have been of 
'^Qore service to you. But, if it had, the only thanks I should 
lesire is, that you would always be equally ready to serve any 
other person that may need your assistance, and so let good 
ojG&ces go round ; for mankind are all of a family. 

For my own part, when I am employed in serving others, I 
do not look upon myself as conferring favors, but as paying 
debts. In my travels, and since my settlement, I have received 
much kindness from men to whom I shall never have any oppor- 
tunity of making the least direct return ; and numberless mer- 
cies from God, who is infinitely above being benefited by our ser- 
vices. Those kindnesses from men I can, therefore, only return 
on their fellow-men ; and I can only show my gratitude for these 
mercies from God by a readiness to help his other children and 
my brethren. For, I do not think that thanks and compliments, 
though repeated weekly, can discharge our real obligations to 
each other, and much less those to our Creator. 

You will see in this my notion of good works, — that I am far 
from expecting to merit heaven by them. By heaven we under- 

* The original MS. ends thus abruptly. It is conjectured that the follow- 
ing is the passage from Milton alluded to : 

" Yet sometimes nations will decline so low 
From virtue, which is reason, that no wrong. 
But justice, and some fatal curse annexed, 
Deprives them of their outward liberty. 
Their inward lost." Paradise Lost, xii. 97. 

♦ The substance of this letter was communicated subsequently to other 
correspondents. For an account of Franklin's acquaintance with Whitefieldj 
see the Autobiography. 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 41^ 

stand a state of happiness, infinite in degree, and etema in dura- 
tion ; I can do nothing to deserve such rewards. He that for 
giving a draught of water to a thirsty person should expect to be 
paid with a good pkmtation, would be modest in his demands, 
compared with those who think they deserve heaven for the little 
good they do on earth. Even the mixed, imperfect pleasures we 
enjoy in this world are rather from God's goodness than our 
merit ; how much more such happiness of heaven ! For my 
part, I have not the vanity to think I deserve it, the folly to 
expect it, nor the ambition to desire it ; but content myself in 
submitting to the will and disposal of that God who made me, 
who has hitherto preserved and blessed me, and in whose fatherly 
goodness I may well confide, that he will never make me miser- 
able, and that even the afflictions I may at any time sufier shall 
tend to my benefit. 

The faith you mention has certainly its use in the world ; I 
do not desire to see it diminished, nor would I endeavor to les- 
sen it in any man ; but I wish it were more j)roductive of good 
works than I have generally seen it. I mean real good works ; 
works of kindness, charity, mercy and public spirit ; not holiday- 
keeping, sermon reading or hearing, performing church ceremo- 
nies, oi making long prayers, filled with flatteries and compli- 
ments, despised even by wise men, and much less capable of 
pleasing the Deity. The worship of God is a duty ; the hearing 
and reading of sermons may be useful ; but, if men rest in hear- 
ing and praying, as too many do, it is as if a tree should value 
itself on being watered and putting forth leaves, though it never 
produced any fruit. 

Your great Master thought much less of these outward 
appearances and professions than many of his modern disciples. 
He preferred the doers of the word to the mere hearers ; the 
son that seemingly refused to obey his father, and yet performed 
his commands, to him that professed his readiness, but neglected 
the work ; the heretical but charitable Samaritan, to the unchar- 
itable though orthodox priest and sanctified Levite ; and those 
who gave food to the hungry, drink to the thirsty, raiment to the 
naked, entertainment to the stranger, and relief to the sick, 
though they never heard of his name, he declares shall in the last 
day be accepted ; when those who cry Lord ! Lord ! who value 
themselves upon their faith, though great enough to perform mir- 
acles, but have neglected good works, shall be rejected. He pro- 
fessed that he came, not to call the righteous, but sinners, to 
repentance ; which implied his modest opinion that there were 
BOjae in his time so good that they need not hear even him for 
35=^ 



414 franklin's select works. 

improvement ; but, nowadays, we have scarce a little parson that 
does not think it the duty of every man within his reach to sit 
under his petty ministrations, and that whoever omits them 
^ffends God. 

I wish to such more humility, and to you health and happi- 
ness ; being B. Fhanklin. 



[to miss CATHERINE RAY, AT BLOCK ISLAND.] 

Philadelphia, 4 March, 1775. 
Dear Katy : Your kind letter of January 20th is but just 
come to hand, and I take this first opportunity of acknowledging 
the favor. It gives me great pleasure to hear that you got home 
safe and well that day. I thought too much was hazarded when 
I saw you put oiF to sea in that very little skiff, tossed by every 
wave. But the call was strong and just, a sick parent. I stood 
on the shore, and looked after you, till I could no longer distin- 
guish you, even with my glass ; then returned to your sister's, 
praying for your safe passage. Towards evening, all agreed that 
you must certainly be arrived before that time, the weather hav- 
ing been so favorable ; which made me more easy and cheerful, 
for I had been truly concerned for you. 

I left New England slowly, and with great reluctance. Short 
days' journeys, and loitering visits on the road, manifested my 
unwillingness to quit a country in which I drew my first breath, 
spent my earliest and most pleasant days, and had now received 
so many fresh marks of the people's goodness and benevolence, 
in the kind and affectionate treatment I had everywhere met 
with. I almost forgot I had a home^ till I was more than 
half-way towards it ; till I had, one by one, parted with all my 
New England friends, and was got into the western borders of 
Connecticut, among mere strangers. Then, like an old man, 
who, having buried all he loved in this world, begins to think of 
heaven, I began to think of and wish for home ; and, as I dre v 
nearer, I found the attraction stronger and stronger. My dili- 
gence and speed increased with my impatience, I drove on vio- 
lently, and made such long stretches that a very few days 

brought me to my own house, and to the arms of my good old 

wife and children, where I remain, thanks to God, at present 

well and happy. 

Persons subject to the hyp complain of the north-east wind 

as increasing their malady ; but, since you promised to send mc 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 4l5 

kisses in that wind, and I find you as good as your word, it is to 
me the gayest wind that blows, and gives me the best spirits, 
I write this during a north-east storm of snow, the greatest we 
have had this winter. Your favors come mixed with the snowy 
fleeces, which are pure as your virgin innocence, white as your 
lovely bosom, and — as cold. But let it warm towards some 
worthy young man, and may Heaven bless you both with every 
kind of happiness ! 

I desired Miss Anna Ward to send you over a little book I 
left with her, for your amusement in that lonely island. My 
respects to your good father and mother and sister. Let me 
often hear of your welfare, since it is not likely I shall ever 
again have the pleasure of seeing you. Accept mine and my 
wife's sincere thanks, for the many civilities I receive from you 
and your relations ; and do me the justice to believe me, dear girl, 
your affectionate, faithful friend, and humble servant, 

B. Franklin. 

P. S. My respectful compliments to your good brother Ward, 
and sister ; and to the agreeable family of the Wards at New- 
port, when you see them. Adieu. 



[to miss CATHERINE RAY.] 

Philadelphia, 11 September, 1755. 

Begone, business, for an hour at least, and let me chat a little 
with my Katy. 

I have now before me, my dear girl, three of your favors, 
namely, of March the 3d, March the 30th, and May the 1st. 
The first I received just before I set out on a long journey, 
and the others while I was on that journey, which held me near 
six weeks. Since my return, I have been in such a perpetual 
hurry of public affairs of various kinds, as renders it impracti- 
cable for me to keep up my private correspondences, even those 
that afforded me the greatest pleasure. 

You ask, in your last, how I do, and what I am doing, and 
whether everybody loves me yet, and why I make them do so. 

In regard to the first, I can say, thanks to God-, that I do not 
renieiuber I was ever better. I still relish all the pleasures of 
life that a temperate man can in reason desire, and through 
favor 1 have them all in my power. This happy situation shall 



416 franklin's select works. 

continue as long as God pleases, who knows what is best for hia 
creatures, and I hope will enable me to bear with patience and 
dutiful submission any change he may think fit to make, that is 
less agreeable. As to the second question, I must confess (but 
don't you be jealous), that many more people love me now than 
ever did before; for, since I saw you, I have been enabled to do 
some general services to the country, and to the army, for which 
both have thanked and praised me, and say they love me. They 
say so, as you used to do ; and, if I were to ask any favors of 
them, they would, perhaps, as readily refuse me ; so that I find 
little real advantage in being beloved, but it pleases my humor. 

Now it is near four months since I have been favored with a 
single line from you ; but I will not be angry with you, because 
it is my fault. I ran in debt to you three or four letters ; and, 
as I did not pay, you would not trust me any more, and you 
had some reason. But, believe me, I am honest ; and, though I 
should never make equal returns, you shall see I will keep fair 
accounts. Equal returns I can never make, though I should 
write to you by every post ; for the pleasure I receive from one 
of yours is more than you can have from two of mine. The 
small news, the domestic occurrences among our friends, the 
natural pictures you draw of persons, the sensible observations 
and reflections you make, and the easy, chatty manner in which 
you express everything, all contribute to heighten the pleasure ; 
and the more as they remind me of those hours and miles that 
we talked away so agreeably, even in a winter journey, a wrong 
road, and a soaking shower. 

I long to hear whether you have continued ever since in that 
monastery ; ^ or have broke into the world again, doing pretty 
mischief; how the lady Wards do, and how many of them are 

married, or about it ; what is become of Mr. B and Mr. 

L , and what the state of your heart is at this instant. 

But that, perhaps, I ought not to know ; and, therefore, I will 
not conjure, as you sometimes say I do. If I could conjure, 
it should be to know what was that oddest question about me that 
ever was thought of, which you tell me a lady had just sent to 
ask you. 

I commend your prudent resolutions, in the article of grant- 
ing favors to lovers. But, if I were courting you, I could not 
hardly approve such conduct. I should even be malicious 
enough to say you were too knoioing, and tell you the old story 
of the Girl and the Miller. I enclose you the songs you write 

* Block Island. 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 41T 

for, and with them your Spanish letter, with a translation. I 
honor that honest Spaniard for loving you. It showed the 
goodness of his taste and judgment. But you must forget him, 
and bless some worthy young Englishman. 

You have spun a long thread, five thousand and twenty-two 
yards. It will reach almost from Rhode Island hither. I wish 
I had hold of one end of it, to pull you to me. But you would 
break it rather than come. The cords of love and friendship 
are longer and stronger, and in times past have drawn me fur- 
ther, — even back from England to Philadelphia. I guess that 
some of the same kind will one day draw you out of that 
island. 

I was extremely pleased with the you sent me. The 

Irish people, who have seen it, say it is the right sort ; but I 
cannot learn that we have anything like it here. The cheeses, 
particularly one of them, were excellent. All our friends have 
tasted it, and all agree that it exceeds any English cheese they 
ever tasted. Mrs. Franklin was very proud that a young lady 
should have so much regard for her old husband as to send him 
such a present. We talk of you every time it comes to table. 
She is sure you are a sensible girl, and a notable housewife, and 
talks of bequeathing me to you as a legacy ; but I ought to 
wish you a better, and hope she will live these hundred years ; 
for we are grown old together, and, if she has any faults, I am 
60 used to them that I don't perceive them ; as the song says, 

" Some faults we have all, and so has my Joan, 
But then they 're exceedingly small, 
And, now I 'm grown used to them, so like my own 
I scarcely can see them at all. 

My dear friends, 
I scarcely can see them at all." 

Indeed, I begin to think she has none, as I think of you. And, 
since she is willing I should love you as much as you are willing 
to be loved by me, let us join in wishing the old lady a long life 
and a happy. 

With her respectful compliments to you, to your good mother 
and sisters, present mine, though unknown ; and believe me to 
be, dear girl, your affectionate friend and humble servant, 

B. FllANKLIN. 

P. S. Sally says, " Papa, my love to Miss Katy." If it wag 
not quite unreasonable, I should desire you to write to me every 
post, whether you hear from me or not. As to your spelling, 
don't let those laughing girls put you out of conceit with it. It is 
the best in the world, for every letter of it stands for something. 



418 FRANKLIN'S SELECT WORKS. 

[to miss e. hubbaed.]* 
On the Death of his Brother, John Franklin. 
^ Philadelphia, 23 February, 1756, 

— I condole with jou. We have lost a most dear and valu- 
able relation. But it is the will of God and nature that these 
mortal bodies be laid aside when the soul is to enter into real 
life. This is rather an embryo state, a preparation for living, 
A man is not completely born until he be dead. Why, then, 
should we giieve that a new child is born among the immortals 
a new member added to their happy society ? 

We are spirits. That bodies should be lent us, while they 
can afford us pleasure, assist us in acquiring knowledge, or in 
doing good to our fellow-creatures, is a kind and benevolent act 
of God. When they become unfit for these purposes, and afford 
us pain instead of pleasure, instead of an aid become an encum- 
brance, and answer none of the intentions for which they were 
given, it is equally kind and benevolent that a way is provided 
by which we may get rid of them. Death is that way. We 
ourselves, in some cases, prudently choose a partial death. A 
mangled, painful limb, which cannot be restored, we willingly 
cut off. He who plucks out a tooth parts with it freely, since 
the pain goes with it ; and he who quits the whole body parts 
at once with all pains, and possibilities of pains and diseases, 
which it was liable to, or capable of making him suffer. 

Our friend and we were invited abroad on a party of pleas- 
ure, which is to last forever. His chair was ready first, and he 
is gone before us. We could not all conveniently start together ; 
and why should you and I be grieved at this, since we are soon 
to follow, and know where to find him ? Adieu. 

B. Franklin. 



[to his wife.] 
Humorous Rebuke. 

" Easton, Saturday morning, Nov. 13, 175G. 
My bear Child : I wrote to you a few days since, by a special 
messenger, and enclosed letters for all our wives and sweethearts, 
expecting to hear from you by his return, and to have the north- 

* John Franklin married a second wife, by the name of Hubbard, a widow. 
Miss E. Hubbard, to whom this letter was addressed, was her daughter by a 
former marriage. 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 419 

ern newspapers and English letters, per the packet ; but he is 
just now returned without a scrap for poor us. So I had a good 
mind not to write to you by this opportunity ; but I never can be 
ill-natured enough, even when there is the most occasion. The 
messenger says he left the letters at your house, and saw you 
afterwards at Mr. Dentie's and told you when he would go, and 
that he lodged at Honey's, next door to you, and yet you did 
not write ; so let Goody Smith give one more just judgment, and 
say what should be done to you; I think I won't tell you that 
we are well, nor that we expect to return about the middle of 
the week, nor will I send you a word of news ; that 's poz. My 
duty to mother, love to the children, and to Miss Betsey and 
Gracey, &c. &c. B. Franklin. 

P. S. — I have scratched out the loving words, being writ in 
liaste, by mistake, when \ forgot I was angry. 



[to lord kames.] 



His Lordship^ s Principles of Equity — Franklin'' s Plan of Writing 

The Art of Virtue. 

London, May 3, 1760. 

My dear Lord : I have endeavored to comply with your 
request in writing something on the present situation of our 
affairs in America, in order to give more correct notions of the 
British interest, with regard to the colonies, than those I found 
many sensible men possessed of. Enclosed you have the produc- 
tion, such as it is. I wish it may, in any degree, be of service 
to the public. I shall, at least, hope this from it, for my own 
part, — that you will consider it as a letter from me to you, and 
take its length as some excuse for being so long a-coming. 

I am now reading with great pleasure and improvement your 
excellent work, The Principles of Equity. It will be of the 
greatest advantage to the judges in our colonies, not only in those 
which have courts of chancery, but also in those which, having 
no such courts, are obliged to mix equity with common law. It 
will be of more service to the colony judges, as few of them 
have been bred to the law. I have sent a book to a particular 
friend, one of the judges of the Supreme Court in Pennsylvania, 

I will shortly send you a copy of the chapter you are pleased 
to mention in so obliging a manner; and shall be extremely 
obliged in receiving a copy of the collection of Maxims for the 



420 franklin's select works. 

Conduct of Life, which you are preparing for the use of your 
children. I purpose, likewise, a little work for the benefit of 
youth, to be called the Art of Virtue.^ From the title, I think 
you will hardly conjecture what the nature of such a book may 
be. I must, therefore, explain it a little. ^ Many people lead 
bad lives, that would gladly lead good ones, but know not how 
to make the change. They have frequently resolved and endeati- 
ored it, but in vain ; because their endeavors have not been 
properly conducted. To expect people to be good, to be just, to 
be temperate, &c., without showing them how they should become 
so, seems like the ineffectual charity mentioned by the apostle, 
which consisted in saying to the hungry, the cold and the naked, 
be ye fed, be ye warmed, be ye clothed, without showing them 
hosv they should get food, fire or clothing. 

Most people have, naturally, some virtues, but none have 
naturally all the virtues. To acquire those that are wanting, 
and secure what we acquire, as well as those we have naturally, 
is the subject of an art. It is as properly an art as painting, 
navigation or architecture. If a man would become a painter, 
navigator or architect, it is not enough that he is advised to be 
one, that he is convinced by the arguments of his adviser that it 
would be for his advantage to be one, and that he resolves to be 
one ; but he must also be taught the principles of the art, be 
shown all the methods of working, and how to acquire the habits 
of using properly all the instruments ; and thus, regularly and 
gradually, he arrives, by practice, at some perfection in the art. 
If he does not proceed thus, he is apt to meet with difficulties 
that discourage him, and make him drop the pursuit. 

My Art of Virtue has also its instruments, and teaches the 
manner of using them. Christians are directed to have faith in 
Christ, as the efiectual means of obtaining the change they 
desire. It may, when suflBiciently strong, be effectual with 
many : for a full opinion that a teacher is infinitely wise, good 
and powerful, and that he will certainly reward and punish the 
obedient and disobedient, must give great weight to his precepts, 
and make them much more attended to by his disciples. J3ut 
many have this faith in so weak a degree, that it does not 
produce the efiect. Our Ai't of Virtue may, therefore, be of 
great service to those whose faith is, unhappily, not so strong, and 
may come in aid of its weakness. Such as are naturally well 
disposed, and have been carefully educated, so that good habits 
have been early established, and bad ones prevented, have less 

* The plan was never carried out. See some account of it in the Autobi- 
ography. 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 421 

need of this art ; but all may be more or less benefited by it. It 
is, in short, to be adapted for universal use. I imagine what I 
have now been writing will seem to savor of great presump- 
tion ; I must, therefore, speedily finish my little piece, and com- 
municate the manuscript to you, that you may judge whether it 
is possible to make good such pretensions. I shall, at the same 
time, hope for the benefit of your corrections. 

B. Franklin. 



[to miss MARY STEVENSON.] 

Advice in Reading. 

Craven-street, May 16, 17C0. 

I SEND my good girl the books I mentioned to her last night. 
I beg her to accept of them as a small mark of my esteem and 
friendship. They are written in the familiar, easy manner for 
which the French are so remarkable, and afibrd a good deal of 
philosophic and practical knowledge, unembarrassed with the dry 
mathematics used by more exact reasoners, but which is apt to 
discourage young beginners. 

I would advise you to read with a pen in your hand, and enter 
in a little book short hints of what you find that is curious, or 
that may be useful ; for this will be the best method of imprint- 
ing such particulars in your memory, where they will be ready, 
either for practice on some future occasion, if they are matters 
of utility, or, at least, to adorn and improve your conversation, 
if they are rather points of curiosity ; and, as many of the 
terms of science are such as you cannot have met with in your 
common reading, and maj' therefore be unacquainted with, I 
think it would be well for you to have a good dictionary at hand, 
to consult immediately when you meet with a word you do not 
comprehend the precise meaning of. 

This may, at first, seem troublesome and interrupting; but it 
is a trouble that will daily diminish, as you will daily find less 
and less occasion for your dictionary, as you become more 
acquainted with the terms ; and, in the mean time, you will read 
with more satisfaction, because with more understanding. A\ hen 
any point occurs in which you would be glad to have further in- 
formation than your book affords you, I beg you would not in 
the least apprehend that I should 'think it a trouble to receive 
and answer your questions. It will be a pleasure, and no trouble. 
36 



422 franklin's select works. 

For thougli I may not be able, out of my own little stock of 
knowledge, to afford you what you require, I can easily direct 
you to the books where it may most readily be found. Adieu, 
and believe me ever, my dear friend, 

B. Franklin 



[to GEORGE WHITEriELD.] 

Trust in Providence. 

Philadelphia, 19 June, 1764. 

Dear Friend : I received your favors of the 21st past, and 
of the 3d instant, and immediately sent the enclosed as directed. 

Your frequently repeated wishes for my eternal, as well as my 
temporal happiness, are very obliging, and I can only thank you 
for them and offer you mine in return. I have myself no doubt 
that I shall enjoy as much of both as is proper for me. That 
Being who gave me existence, and through almost three-score 
years has been continually showering his favors upon me, whose 
very chastisements have been blessings to me. — can I doubt that 
He loves me ? And, if He loves me, can I doubt that He will 
go on to take care of me, not only here, but hereafter ? This to 
some may seem presumption ; to me it appears the best-grounded 
hope, — hope of the future built on experience of the past. 

By the accounts I have of your late labors, I conclude your 
health is mended by your journey, which gives me pleasure. 
Mrs. Franklin presents her cordial respects, with, dear sir, your 
affectionate humble servant, B. Franklin. 

P. S. We hope you will not be deterred from visiting your 
friends here by the bugbear Boston account of the unhealthiness 
of Philadelphia. 



[to the editor of a LONDON NEWSPAPER.] 

Satirical Defence of Newspaper Paragraphs and their False Reports. 

Monday, 20 May, 1765. 
Sir : In your paper of Wednesday last, an ingenious cor- 
respondent, who calls himself The Spectator, and dates from 
Pimlico, under the guise «f good-will to news-writers, whom he 



HIS CORRESrONDEXCE. 428 

calls a "useful body of men in this great city," has, in my opin- 
ion, artfully attempted to turn them and their works into ridi- 
cule, wherein, if he could succed, great injury might be done to 
the public, as well as to these good people. 

Supposing, sir, that the '* ive hears " they give us of this or 
the other intended tour or voyage of this and the other great 
personage were mere inventions, yet they at least offer us an in- 
nocent amusement while we read, and useful matter for conver- 
gation when we are disposed to converse. 

Englishmen, sir, are too apt to be silent when they have nothing 
to say, and too apt to be sullen when they are silent ; and when 
they are sullen, to hang themselves. But, by these we hears, we 
are supplied with abundant funds for discourse. We discuss the 
motives for such voyages, the probability of their being under- 
taken, and the practicability of their execution. Here we dis- 
play our judgment in politics, our knowledge of the interests of 
princes, and our skill in geography, and (if we have it) show our 
dexterity in argumentation. In the mean time, the tedious hour 
is killed, we go home pleased with the applauses we have received 
from others, or at least with those we give to ourselves; we 
sleep soundly, and live on, to the comfort of our families. But, 
sir, I beg leave to say that all the articles of news that seem 
improbable are not mere inventions. Some of them, I can assure 
you on the faith of a traveller, are serious truths. And here, 
quitting Mr. Spectator of Pimlico, give me leave to instance the 
various accounts the news-writers have given us, with so much 
honest zeal for the welfare of Poor Old England, of the establish- 
ing manufactures in the colonies to the prejudice of those of the 
kingdom. It is objected by superficial readers, who yet pretend 
to some knowledge of those countries, that such establishments 
are not only improbable, but impossible, for that their sheep have 
but little wool, not in the whole sufficient for a pair of stockings 
a year to each inhabitant ; that, from the universal dearness of 
labor among them, the working of iron, and other materials, ex- 
cept in a few coarse instances, is impracticable to any advantage. 

Dear sir, do not let us suffer ourselves to be amused with such 
groundless objections. The very tails of the American sheep are 
so laden with wool that each has a little car or wasfon, on four 
little wheels, to support and keep it from trailing on the ground. 
Would they caulk their ships, would they even litter their horses 
with wool, if it were not both plenty and cheap ? And what 
signifies the dearness of labor, when an English shilling passes 
for five-and-twenty ? Their engaging three hundred silk-throw- 
fiters here in one week for New Y'ork was treated as a fable, be- 



424 franklin's select works. 

cause, forsooth, they have " no silk there to throw." Those who 
make this objection perhaps do not know that at the same time the 
agents from the King of Spain were at Quebec to contract for 
one thousand pieces of cannon to be made there for the fortifi- 
cation of Mexico, and at New York engaging the usual supply 
of woollen floor-carpets for their West India houses, other agents 
from the Emperor of China were at Boston treating about an ex- 
change of raw silk for wool, to be carried in Chinese junks 
throuofh the Straits of Masrellan. 

And yet all this is as certainly true as the account, said to be 
from Quebec, in all the papers of last week, that the inhabit- 
ants of Canada are making preparations for a cod and whale 
fishery this " summer in the upper lakes." Ignorant people may 
object, that the upper lakes are fresh, and that cod and whales 
are salt-water fish ; but let them know, sir, that cod, like other 
fish, when attacked by their enemies, fly into any water where 
they can be safest ; that whales, when they have a mind to 
eat cod, pursue them wherever they fly ; and that the grand leap 
of the whale in the chase up the Falls of Niagara is esteemed, 
by all who have seen it, as one of the finest spectacles in nature. 
Really, sir, the world is grown too incredulous. It is like the 
pendulum, ever swinging from one extreme to another. Formerly 
everything printed was believed, because it was in print. Now 
things seem to be disbelieved for just the very same reason. 
Wise men wonder at the present growth of infidelity. They 
should have considered, when they taught people to doubt the 
authority of newspapers and the truth of predictions in the alma- 
nacs, that the next step might be a disbelief of the well-vouched 
accounts of ghosts and witches, and doubts even of the truths of 
the Creed. 

Thus much I thought it necessary to say in favor of an honest 
set of writers, whose comfortable living depends on collecting and 
supplying the printers with news at the small price of sixpence an 
article, and who always show their regard to truth by contradict- 
ing in a subsequent article such as are wrong, for another six- 
pence, to the great satisfaction and improvement of us cofi"ee- 
house students in history and politics, and all future Livys, Rapins, 
Robertsons, Humes and Macaulays, who may be sincerely in- 
clined to furnish the world with that rara avis, a true history 
I am, sir, your humble servant, A Traveller. 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 425 



[to Bins. DEBORAH FRANKLIN.] 

State of his Affairs — Proposed Marriage of his Daughter. 

LoNDON,-June 22, 1767. 

My dear Child : Captain Falconer is arrived, and came 
yesterday to see me and bring my letters. I was extremely glad 
of yours, because I had none by the packet. It seems now as if 
I should stay here another winter, and therefore I must leave it 
to your judgment to act in the aifair of our daughter's match as 
shall seem best. If you think it a suitable one, I suppose the 
sooner it is completed the better. In that case, I would advise 
that you do not make an expensive feasting wedding, but conduct 
.everything with frugality and economy, which our circumstances 
now require to be observed in all our expenses. For, since my 
partnership with Mr. Hall has expired, a great source of our 
income is cut off; and, if I should lose the post-office, which, 
among the many changes here, is far from being unlikely, we 
should be reduced to our rents and interest of money for a sub- 
sistence, which will by no means afford the chargeable house- 
keeping and entertainments we have been used to. 

For my own part, I live here as frugally as possible, not to 
be destitute of the comforts of life, makmg no dinners for any- 
body, and contenting myself with a single dish when I dine at 
home ; and yet such is the dearness of living here in every 
article, that my expenses amaze me. I see, too, by the sums 
you have received in my absence, that yours are very great ; 
and I am very sensible that your situation naturally brings you 
a great many visitors, which occasions an expense not easily to 
be avoided, especially when one has been long in the practice 
and habit of it. But, when people's incomes are lessened, if 
they cannot proportionably lessen their outgoings, they must 
come to poverty. If we were young enough to begin business 
again, it might be another matter ; but I doubt we are past it, 
and business not well managed ruins one faster than no business. 
In short, with frugality and prudent care we may subsist decently 
on what we have, and leave it entire to our children ; but with- 
out such care we shall not be able to keep it together ; it will 
melt away like butter in the sunshine, and we may live long 
enough to feel the miserable consequences of our indiscretion. 

I know very little of the gentleman or his character, nor can 
I at this distance. I hope his expectations are not great of any 
fortune to be had with our daughter before our death. I can 
only say that, if he proves a good husband to her and a good 

36=^ 



426 franklin's select works. 

son to me, he shall find me as good a father as 1 can be : but at 
present I suppose you would agree with me, that we cannot do 
more than fit her out handsomely in clothes and furniture, not 
exceeding in the whole five hundred pounds in value. For the 
rest, they must depend, as you and I did, on their own industry 
and care, as what remains in our hands will be barely sufficient 
for our support, and not enough for them when it comes to be 
divided at our decease. 

Sally Franklin is well. Her father, who had not seen her for 
a twelvemonth, came lately and took her home with him for a 
few weeks to see her friends. He is very desirous I should take 
her with me to America. 

I suppose the blue room is too blue, the wood being of the 
same color with the paper, and so looks too dark. I would 
have you finish it as soon as you can, thus : paint the wainscot 
a dead white, paper the walls blue, and tack the gilt border 
round just above the surbase and under the cornice. If the 
paper is not equally colored when pasted on, let it be brushed 
over again with the same color, and let the papier mache musical 
figures be tacked to the middle of the ceiling. When this is 
done, I think it will look very well. 

I am glad to hear that Sally keeps up and increases the num- 
ber of her friends. The best wishes of a fond father for her 
happiness always attend her. I am, my dear Debby, your affec- 
tionate husband, B. Fkankun. 



[to miss MARY STEVENSON.] 

Visit to Paris — French Women and Fashions — King and Queen — 
Versailles — Paris — French Politeness — Travelling. 

Paris, 14 September, 1767. 

Dear Polly : T am always pleased with a letter from you, 
and I flatter myself you may be sometimes pleased in receiving 
one from me, though it should be of little importance, such as 
this, which is to consist of a few occasional remarks made here 
and in my journey hither. 

Soon after I left you in that agreeable society at Bromley, I 
took the resolution of making a trip with Sir John Pringle into 
France. We set out on the 28th past All the way to Dover 
we were furnished with post-chaises, hung so as to lean forward, 
the top coming down over one's eyes, like a hood, as if 'to pre- 
vent one's seeing the country ; which being one of my great 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 427 

pleasures, I was engaged in perpetual disputes with the inn- 
keepers, ostlers and postilions, about getting the straps taken 
up a hole or two before, and let down as much behind, they 
insisting that the chaise leaning forward was an ease to the 
horses, and that the contrary would kill them. I suppose the 
chaise leaning forward looks to them like a willingness to go 
forward, and that its hanging back shows reluctance. They added 
other reasons, that were no reasons at all, and made me, as upon 
a hundred other occasions, almost wish that mankind had never 
b^en endowed with a reasoning faculty, since they know so little 
how to make use of it, and so often mislead themselves by it, 
and that they had been furnished with a good sensible instinct 
instead of it. 

At Dover, the next morning, we embarked for Calais, with a 
number of passengers, who had never before been at sea. They 
would previously make a hearty breakfast, because, if the wind 
should fail, we might not get over till supper-time. Doubtless 
they thought that when they had paid For their breakfast they 
had a right to it, and that when they had swallowed it they 
were sure of it. Bat they had scarce been out half an hour 
before the sea laid claim to it, and they were obliged to deliver 
it up. So that it seems there are uncertainties even beyond 
those between the cup and the lip. If ever you go to sea, take 
my advice, and live sparingly a day or two beforehand. The 
sickness, if any, will be lighter and sooner over. We got to 
Calais that evenino;. 

Various impositions we suffered from boatmen, porters and 
the like, on both sides the water. I know not which are most 
rapacious, the English or French ; but the latter have, with their 
knavery, most politeness. 

The roads we found equally good with ours in England, in 
some places paved with smooth stones, like our new streets, for 
many miles together, and rows of trees on each side, and yet 
there are no turnpikes. Bat then the poor peasants complained 
to us grievously that they were obliged to work upon the roads 
full two months in the year, without being paid for their labor. 
Whether this is truth, or whether, like Englishmen, they grum- 
ble, cause or no cause, I have not yet been able fully to inform 
myself. 

The women we saw at Calais, on the road, at Boulogne, and 
in the inns and villages, were generally of dark conipiexiuns ; 
but, arriving at Abbeville, we foand a sudden change, a uiaiti- 
tude of both women and men in that place appearing remarkably 
fair. Whether this is owing to a small colony of spinners, wool- 



428 franklin's select works. 

combers and weavers, brought hither from Holland with the 
woollen manufactory about sixty years ago, or to their being 
less exposed to the sun than in other places, their business 
keeping them much within doors, I know not. Perhaps, as in 
some other cases, different causes may club in producing the 
effect, but the effect itself is certain. Never was I in a place 
of greater industry, wheels and looms going in every house. 

As soon as we left Abbeville, the swarthiness returned. I 
speak generally ; for here are some fair women at Paris, who, I 
think, are not whitened by art. As to rouge, they don't pretend 
to imitate nature in laying it on. There is no gradual diminu- 
tion of the color, from the full bloom in the middle of the clieek 
to the faint tint near the sides, nor does it show itself differ- 
ently in different faces. I have not had the honor of being at 
any lady's toilet to see how it is laid on, but I fancy I can tell 
you how it is or may be done. Cut a hole of three inches diam- 
eter in a piece of paper ; place it on the side of your face in 
such a manner as that the top of the hole may be just under 
the eye ; then, with a brush dipped in the color, paint face and 
paper together ; so, when the paper is taken off, there will re- 
main a round patch of red exactly the form of the hole. This 
is the mode, from the actresses on the stage upwards, through all 
ranks of ladies, to the princesses of the blood ; but it stops 
there, the queen not using it, having, in the serenity, compla- 
cence and benignity, that shine so eminently in, or rather 
through her countenance, sufficient beauty, though now an old 
woman, to do extremely well without it. 

You see I speak of the queen as if I had seen her ; and so I 
have, for you must know I have been at court. We went to 
Versailles last Sunday, and had the honor of being presented to 
the king ; he spoke to both of us very graciously and very cheer- 
fully, is a handsome man, has a very lively look, and appears 
younger than he is. In the evening we were at the Grand 
Convert, where the family sup in public. The table was half 
a hollow square, the service gold. When either made a sign for 
drink, the word was given by one of the waiters : A. boire pour 
le Roi, or, A boire pour la Reine. Then two persons came from 
within, the one with wine and the other with water in carafes ; 
each drank a little glass of what he brought, and then put both 
the carafes with a glass on a salver, and then presented it. Their 
distance from each other was such as that other chairs might 
have been placed between any two of them. An officer of the 
court brought us up through the crowd of spectators, and placed 
Sir John so as to stand between the queen and Madame Vic- 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 42^ 

toire. The king talked a good deal to Sir John, asking many 
questions about our royal family; and did me too the honor of 
taking some notice of me ; that is saying enough, for I woula 
not have you think me so much pleased with this king and 
queen as to have a whit less regard than I used to have Cor 
ours. No Frenchman shall go beyond me in thinking my 
own king and queen the very best in the world, and the most 
amiable. 

Versailles has had infinite sums laid out in building it and 
supplying it with water. Some say the expenses exceeded 
eighty millions sterling. The range of buildings is immense ; 
the garden-front most magnificent, all of hewn stone ; the num- 
ber of statues, figures, urns, &c., in marble and bronze of 
exquisite workmanship, is beyond conception. But the water- 
works are out of repair, and so is great part of the front next 
the town, looking, with its shabby, half-brick walls, and broken 
windows, not much better than the houses in Durham Yard. 
There is, in short, both at Versailles and Paris, a prodigious 
mixture of magnificence and negligence, with every kind of ele- 
gance except that of cleanliness, and what we call tidiness. 
Though I must do Paris the justice to say that in two points of 
cleanliness they exceed us. The water they drink, though from 
the river, they render as pure as that of the best spring, by 
filtering it through cisterns filled with sand ; and the streets, 
with constant sweeping, are fit to walk in, though there is no 
paved foot-path. Accordingly, many well-dressed people are 
constantly seen walking in them. The crowd of coaches and 
chairs, for this reason, is not so great. Men, as well as women, 
carry umbrellas in their hands, which they extend in case of 
rain or too much sun ; and, a man with an umbrella not taking 
"up more than three foot square, or nine square feet of the street, 
when, if in a coach, he would take up two hundred and forty 
square feet, you can easily conceive that, though the streets 
here are narrow, they may be much less encumbered. They are 
extremely well paved, and the stones, being generally cubes, 
when worn on one side may be turned and become new. 

The civilities we everywhere receive give us the strongest 
impressions of the French politeness. It seems to be a point 
settled here universally that strangers are to be treated with 
respect ; and one has just the same deference shown one here by 
being a stranger as in England by being a lady. The custom- 
house officers at Port St. Denis, as we entered Paris, were about 
to seize two dozen of excellent Bordeaux wine given us at Bou- 
logne, and which wd brought with us ; but, as soon as they found 



430 franklin's select works. 

we were strangers, it was immediately remitted on that account. 
At the church of Notre Dame, where we went to see a magnif- 
icent illumination, with figures, &c., for the deceased Dauphin- 
ess, we found an immense crowd, who were kept out by guards; 
but, the officer being told that we were strangers from Eng- 
land, he immediately admitted us, accompanied and showed ua 
everything. Why don't we practise this urbanity to French- 
men ? Why should they be allowed to outdo us in anything ? 

Here is an exhibition of painting, like ours in London, to 
which multitudes flock daily. I am not connoisseur enough to 
judge which has most merit. Every night, Sundays not ex- 
cepted, here are plays or operas ; and, though the weather has 
been hot, and the houses full, one is not incommoded by the 
heat so much as with us in winter. They must have some way 
of changing the air that we are not acquainted with. I shall 
inquire into it. 

Travelling is one way of lengthening life, — at least, in appear- 
ance. It is but about a fortnio-ht since we left London, but the 
variety of scenes we have gone through makes it seem equal to 
six months living in one place. Perhaps I have suifered a 
greater change, too, in my own person, than I could have done 
in six years at home. I had not been here six days before m}* 
tailor and perruquier had transformed me into a Frenchman. 
Only think what a figure I make in a little bag-wig and with 
naked ears ! They told me I was become twenty years younger, 
and looked very gallant. 

This letter shall cost you a shilling, and you may consider it 
cheap, when you reflect that it has cost me at least fifty guineas 
to get into the situation that enables me to write it. Besides, I 
might, if I had stayed at home, have won perhaps two shillings 
of you at cribbage. By the way, now I mention cards, let me 
tell you that quadrille is now out of fashion here, and English 
whist all the mode at Paris and the court. 

And pray look upon it as no small matter that, surrounded 
as I am by the glories of the world, and amusements of all 
sorts, I remember you, and Dolly, and all the dear good folks at 
Bromley. It is true, I cannot help it, but must and ever shall 
remember you all with pleasure. 

Need I add that I am particularly, my dear good friend, 
yours, most affectionately, B. Franklin. 



/ 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 431 

[to lord kames.] 

L'se of Oxen in AgricuUure — Congratulations — Political Proapects. 

LoxDOX, February 21, 1769. 

My dear Friend : I received your excellent paper on the 
preferable use of oxen in agriculture, and have put it in the way 
of being communicated to the public here. I have observed in 
America that the farmers are more thriving in those parts of the 
country where horned cattle are used than in those where the 
labor is done by horses. The latter are said to require twice 
the quantity of land to maintain them, and, after all, are not 
good to eat ; at least, we don't think them so. 

Here is a waste of land that might afford subsistence for so 
many of the human species. Perhaps it was for this reason that 
the Hebrew law-giver, having promised that the children of 
Israel should be as numerous as the sands of the sea, not only 
took care to secure the health of individuals, by regulating their 
diet, that they might be fitter for producing children, but also 
forbid their using horses, as those animals would lessen the quan- 
tity of subsistence for men. Thus we find, when they took any 
horses from their enemies, they destroyed them ; and, in the com- 
mandments, where the labor of the ox and ass is mentioned and 
forbidden on the Sabbath, there is no mention of the horse, prob- 
ably, because they were to have none ; and, by the great armies 
suddenly raised in that small territory they inhabited, it appears 
to have been very full of people. "^ 

Food is always necessary to all, and much the greatest part 
of the labor of mankind is employed in raising provisions for 
the mouth. Is not this kind of labor, then, the fittest to be the 
standard by which to measure the values of all other labor, 
and, consequently, of all' other things, whose value depends on 
the labor of making or procuring them ? May not even gold 
and silver be thus valued ? If the labor of the farmer in pro- 
ducing a bushel of wheat be equal to the labor of the miner in 
producing an ounce of silver, will not the bushel of wheat just 
measure the value of the ounce of silver ? The miner must eat : 
the farmer, indeed, can live without the ounce of silver, and so, 

♦There is not in the Jewish law any express prohibition against the use 
of horses ; it is only enjoined that the kings should not multiply the breed, 
or can-y on trade with Egypt for the purchase of horses. (Deut. 17 : 16.) 
Solomon was the first of the Kings of Judah who disregarded this ordinance. 
He had forty thousand stalls of horses, which he brought out of Egypt. (1 
Kings 4: 26 and 10: 28.) From this time downwards, horses were inconstant 
use in the Jewish armies. It is true that the country, from its rooky surface 
and unfertile soil, was extremely unfit for the maintenanoe of those ani- 
Tli9X%, — Note by Lord Karnes. 



432 franklin's select works. 

perhaps, will have some advantage in settling the price. But 
these discussions I leave to you, as being more able to manage 
them; only, I will send you a little scrap I wrote, some time 
since, on the laws prohibiting foreign commodities. 

I congratulate you on your election as President of the Edin- 
burgh Society, I think I formerly took notice to you, in con- 
versation, that I thought there had been some similarity in our 
fortunes, and the circumstances of our lives. This is a fresh 
instance, for by letters just received I find that I was, about 
the same time, chosen President of our American Philosophical 
Society, established at Philadelphia. 

I have sent by sea, to the care of Mr. Alexander, a little 
box, containing a few copies of the late edition of my books, 
for my friends in Scotland. One is directed for you, and one 
for your society, which I beg that you and they would accept 
as a small mark of my respect. With the sincerest esteem and 
regard, B. Franklin. 

P. S. I am sorry my letter of 1767, concerning the American 
disputes, miscarried. I now send you a copy of it from my 
book. The examination mentioned in it you have, probably, 
seen. Things daily wear a worse aspect, and tend more and 
more to a breach and final separation. 



[to JOHN ALLEYNE.] 

On Early Marriages. 

Craven-street, August 9, 1768. 
Dear Jack : You desire, you say, my impartial thoughts on 
the subject of an early marriage, by way of answer to the num- 
berless objections that have been made by numerous persons to 
your own. You may remember, when you consulted me on the 
occasion, that I thought youth, on both sides, to be no objection. 
Indeed, from the marriages that have fallen under my observa- 
tion, I am rather inclined to think that early ones stand the 
best chance of happiness. The temper and habits of the young 
are not yet become so stifi" and uncomplying as when more 
advanced in life ; they form more easily to each other, and 
hence many occasions of disgust are removed. And, if youth 
has less of that prudence which is necessary to manage a family, 
jet the parents and elder friends of young married persons are 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 433 

generally at hand to afford their advice, which amply supplies 
that defect ; and by early marriage youth is sooner formed to 
regular and useful life; and, possibly, some of those accidents 
or connections that might have injured the constitution, or repu- 
tation, or both, are thereby happily prevented. 

Particular circumstances of particular persons may, possibly, 
sometimes make it prudent to delay entering into that state ; 
but, in general, when nature has rendered our bodies fit for it, 
the presumption is in nature's favor, that she has not judged 
amiss in making us desire it. Late marriages are often attended, 
too, with this further inconvenience, that there is not the same 
chance that the parents shall live to see their offspring educated, 
" Late children,'''' says the Spanish proverb, '^ are early orphans^ 
A melancholy reflection to those whose case it may be ! 

With us in America, marriages are generally in the morning 
of life ; our children are therefore educated and settled in the 
world by noon ; and thus, our business being done, we have au 
afternoon and evening of cheerful leisure to ourselves, such as 
our friend at present enjoys. By these early marriages we are 
blessed with more children : and from the mode among: us, 
founded by nature, of every mother suckling and nursing her 
own child, more of them are raised. Thence the swift progress 
of population among us, unparalleled in Europe. In fine, I am 
glad you are married, and congratulate you most cordially upon 
it. You are now in the way of becoming a useful citizen ; and 
you have escaped the unnatural state of celibacy for life, — the 
fate of many here, who never intended it, but who, having too 
long postponed the change of their condition, find at length that 
it is too late to think of it, and so live all their lives in a situa- 
tion that greatly lessens a man's value. An odd volume of a 
set of books bears not the value of its proportion to the set : 
what think you of the odd half of a pair of scissors ? it can't 
well cut anything ; it may possibly serve to scrape a trencher. 

Pray make my compliments and best wishes acceptable to 
your bride. I am old and heavy, or I should ere this have 
presented them in person. I shall make but small use of the 
old man's privilege, that of giving advice to younger friends. 
Treat your wife always with respect ; it will procure respect to 
you, not only from her, but from all that observe it. Never 
use a slighting expression to her, even in jest ; for slights in jest, 
after frequent bandyings, are apt to end in angry earnest. Be 
studious in your profession, and you will be learned. Be indus- 
trious and frugal, and you will be rich. Be sober and temperate, 
and you will be healthy. Be in general virtuous, and you will 
37 



434 franklin's select works. 

be bappy. At least, you will, by such conduct, stand the besi 
chance for such consequences. 

I pray God to bless you both ; being ever your affectionate 
friend, B. Franklin. 



[to WILLIAM FRANKLIN.] 

The Boston Resolutions — Parliamentary Anecdote. 

London, Dec. 19, 17C8. 

Dear Sir : The resolutions of the Boston people concern- 
ing trade make a great noise here. Parliament has not yet 
taken notice of them, but the newspapers are in full cry against 
America. Colonel Onslow told me at court, last Sunday, that I 
could not conceive how much the friends of America were run 
upon and hurt by them, and how much the Grrenvillians tri- 
umphed. I have just written a paper for next Tuesday's Chroni- 
cle, to extenuate matters a little. 

Mentioning Colonel Onslow, reminds me of something that 
passed at the beginning of this session in the House between 
him and Mr. Grenville. The latter had been raving against 
America, as traitorous, rebellious, &c., when the former, who 
has always been its firm friend, stood up and gravely said that 
in reading the lloman history he found it was a custom among 
that wise and magnanimous people, whenever the Senate was 
informed of any discontent in the provinces, to send two or 
three of their body into the discontented provinces, to inquire 
into the grievances complained of, and report to the Senate, that 
mild measures might be used to remedy what was amiss, before 
any severe steps were taken to enforce obedience. That this 
example he thought worthy our imitation in the present state 
of our colonies, for he did so far agree with the honorable gen- 
tleman that spoke just before him as to allow there were great 
•^if^contents among them. He should therefore beg leave to 
.v^ove that two or three members of Parliament be appointed to 
go over to New England on this service. And, that it might 
not be supposed he was for imposing burdens on others that he 
would not be willing to bear himself, he did at the same time 
declare his own willingness, if the House should think fit to 
appoint them, to go over thither with that honorable gentleman. 
Upon this there was a great laugh, which continued some time, 
and was rather increased by Mr. Grenville's asking, " Will the 
gentleman engage that I shall be safe there ? Can I be assured 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 435 

that I shall be allowed to come back again to make the report ? " 
As soon as the laugh was so far subsided as that Mr. Onslow 
could be heard again, he added, " I cannot absolutely engage 
for the honorable gentleman's safe return ; but, if he goes thither 
upon this service, I am strongly of opinion the everit will con- 
tribute greatly to the future quiet of both countries." On which 
the laugh was renewed and redoubled. 

If our people should follow the Boston example in entering 
into resolutions of frugality and industry, full as necessary for 
us as for them, I hope they will, among other things, give this 
reason, — that 't is to enable them more speedily and effectually to 
discharge their debts to Great Britain ; this will soften a little, 
and at the same time appear honorable, and like ourselves. 

Yours, &c., B. Franklin. 



[to WILLIAM FEANKXIN.] 

Riots in London. 

London, April 16, 1768 

Dear Son : Since my last, — a long one, of March 13th, — 
nothing has been talked or thought of here but elections. There 
have been amazing contests all over the kingdom, twenty or 
thirty thousand pounds of a side spent in several places, and 
inconceivable mischief done by debauching the people and 
making them idle, besides the immediate actual mischief done 
by drunken mad mobs to houses, windows, &c. The scenes 
have been horrible. London was illuminated two nights run- 
ning at the command of the mob, for the success of Wilkes, in 
the Middlesex election : the second night exceeded anything of 
the kind ever seen here on the greatest occasions of rejoicing ; 
as even the small cross streets, lanes, courts, and other out-of- 
the-way places, were all in a blaze with lights, and the principal 
streets all night long, as the mobs went round again after two 
o'clock, and obliged people who had extinguished their candles 
to light them again. Those who refused had all their windows 
destroyed. The damage done and expense of candles has been 
computed at fifty thousand pounds ; it must have been great, 
though, probably, not so much. 

The ferment is not yet over, for he has promised to surrender 
himself to the court next Wednesday, and another tumult is 
then expected ; and what the upshot will be no one can yet 



436 franklin's select, works. 

foresee. 'T is really an extraordinary event to see an outlaw 
and an exile, of bad personal character, not worth a flirthing, 
come over from France, set himself up as candidate for the 
capital of the kingdom, miss his election only by being too late 
in his application, and immediately carrying it for the principal 
county. 

The mob (spirited up by numbers of different ballads sung or 
roared in every street), requiring gentlemen and ladies of all 
ranks, as they passed in their carriages, to shout for Wilkes and 
liberty, marking the same words on all their coaches with chalk, 
and No. 45 ^ on every door : which extends a vast way along 
the roads into the country. I went last week to Winchester, 
and observed that for fifteen miles out of town there was scarce 
a door or window-shutter next the road unmarked ; and this 
continued here and there quite to Winchester, which is sixty- 
four miles. B. Franklin. 



[to MR. ROSS, PHILADELPHIA.] 

Riots in London — Wilkes — Divisions among the Ministry — The 
Church in America. 

LoifDON, May 14, 1768. 
Dear Sir : I received your favor of March 13th, and am 
extremely concerned at the disorders on our frontiers, and at the 
debility or wicked connivance of our government and magistrates, 
which must make property, and even life, more and more insecure 
among us, if some effectual remedy is not speedily applied. I 
have laid all the accounts before the ministry here. I wish I 
could procure more attention to them. I have urged over and 
over the necessity of the change we desire ; but this country itself 
being at present in a situation very little better, weakens our 
argument that a royal government would be better managed 
and safer to live under than that of a proprietary. Even this 
capital, the residence of the king, is now a daily scene of law- 
less riot and confusion. Mobs patrolling the streets at noon-day, 
Bome knocking all down that will not roar for Wilkes and liberty ; 
courts of justice afraid to give judgment against him; coal- 
heavers and porters pulling down the houses of coal-merchants, 
that refuse to give them more wages ; sawyers destroying saw- 

* The number of the North Briton containing the libel for which Wilkes 
iras prosecuted. 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 437 

mills; sailors unrigging all the outward bound ships, and suffer- 
ing none to sail till merchants agree to raise their pay ; water- 
men destroying private boats and threatening bridges ; soldiers 
firing among the mobs and killing men, women and children, 
which seems only to have produced an universal sullenness, that 
looks like a great black cloud coming on, ready to burst in a 
general tempest. 

What the event will be, God only knows. But some punish- 
ment seems preparing for a people who are ungratefully abusing 
the best constitution and the best king any nation was ever 
blessed with, intent on nothing but luxury, licentiousness, power, 
places, pensions, and plunder ; while the ministry, divided in their 
councils, with little regard for each other, worried by perpetual 
oppositions, in continual apprehension of changes, intent on 
securing popularity in case they should lose favor, have for 
some years past had little time or inclination to attend to our 
small affairs, whose remoteness makes them appear still smaller. 

The bishops here are very desirous of securing the Church of 
England in America, and promoting its interest and enlargement 
by sending one of their order thither : but, though they have 
long solicited this point with government here, they have not as 
yet been able to obtain it. So apprehensive are ministers of 
engaging in any novel measure. 

I hope soon to have an opportunity of conferring with you, 
and therefore say no mo^e at present on this subject. 

B. Franklin 



[to JOSEPH GALLOWAY.] 

The Wilkes Riots — More Mischief Brewing — Preparations for 

Return. 

London, May 14, 1768. 

Dear Sir : I received your favor of March 31st. It is now, 
with the messages, &c., in the hands of the minister, so that I 
cannot be more particular at present in answering it than to say 
I should have a melancholy prospect in going home to such 
public confusion, if I did not leave greater confusion behind me. 

The newspapers, and my letter of this day to Mr. Ross, will 
inform you of the miserable situation this country is in. While 
I am writing, a great mob of coal-porters fill the street, carrying 
a wretch of their business upon poles to be ducked, and other- 
wise punished at their pleasure, for working at the old wages. 



438 franklin's select works. 

All respect to law and government seems to be lost among the 
common people, who are moreover continually inflamed by sedi- 
tious scribblers to trample on authority, and everything that used 
to keep them in order. 

The Parliament is now sitting, but will not continue long 
together, nor undertake any material business. The court of 
king's bench postponed giving sentence against Wilkes on his 
outlawry till the next term, intimidated, as some say, by his pop- 
ularity, and willing to get rid of the affair for a time, till it 
should be seen what the Parliament would conclude as to his 
membership. The Commons, at least some of them, resent th.Lt 
conduct, which has thrown a burden on them it might have 
cased them of, by pillorying or punishing him in some infamous 
manner, that would have given better ground for expelling him 
the House. His friends complain of it as a delay of justice, say 
the court knew the outlawry to be defective, and that they must 
finally pronounce it void, but would punish him by long confine- 
ment. Great mobs of his adherents have assembled before the 
prison, the guards have fired on them : it is said five or six are 
killed, and sixteen or seventeen are wounded, and some circum- 
stances have attended this military execution, such as its being 
done by the Scotch regiment, the pursuing a lad, and killing 
him at his father's house, &c. &c., that exasperate people ex- 
ceedingly, and more mischief seems brewing. Several of the 
soldiers are imprisoned. If they are not hanged, it is feared 
there will be more and greater mobs ; and, if they are, that no 
soldier will assist in suppressing any mob hereafter. The pros- 
pect either way is gloomy. It is said the English soldiers 
cannot be confided in to act against these mobs, being suspected 
as rather inclined to favor and join them. 

I am preparing for my return, and hope for the pleasure of 
finding you well, when I shall have an opportunity of communi- 
cating to you more particularly the state of things here relating 
to our American affairs, which I cannot so well do by letter. I 
enclose you a report of Sir M. L., counsel to the Board of Trade 
on one of your late acts. I suppose it has had its effect, so that 
the repeal will be of little consequence. 

In the mean time I am, with sincere esteem and affection, sir, 
your most obedient and most humble servant, 

B. Franklin. 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 430 



[to miss mart STEVENSON.] 

Advice on Family Matters. 

London, October, 1768. 

I SEE very clearly the unhappiness of your situation, and that 
it does not arise from any fault in you. I pity you most sin- 
cerely. I should not, however, have thought of givino- you 
advice on this occasion, if you had not requested it, believing, 
as I do, that your own good sense is more than sufficient to 
direct you in every point of duty to others and yourself. If, 
then, I should advise you to anything that may be contrary to 
your own opinion, do not imagine that I shall condemn you if 
you do not follow such advice. I shall only think that, from a 
better acquaintance with circumstances, you form a better judg- 
ment of what is fit for you to do. 

Now, I conceive, with you, that , both from her affection 

to you and from the long habit of having you with her, would 
really be miserable without you. Her temper, perhaps, was 
never of the best ; and, when that is the case, age seldom mends 
it. Much of her unhappiness must arise from thence ; and, 
since wrong turns of mind, when confirmed by time, are almost 
as little in our power to cure as those of the body, I think, with 
you, that her case is a compassionable one. 

If she had, through her own imprudence, brought on herself 
any grievous sickness, I know you would think it your duty to 
attend and nurse her with filial tenderness, even were your own 
health to be endangered by it. Your apprehension, therefore, is 
right, that it may be your duty to live with her, though incon- 
sistent with your happiness and your interest; but this can only 
mean present interest and present happiness, for I think your 
future greater and more lasting interest and happiness will 
arise from the reflection that you have done your duty, and from 
the high rank you will ever hold in the esteem of all that know 
you, for having persevered in doing that duty under so many 
and great discouragements. 

My advice, then, must be, that you return to her as soon as 
the time proposed for your visit is expired ; and that you con- 
tinue, by every means in your power, to make the remainder of 
her days as comfortable to her as possible. Invent amusements 
for her ; be pleased when she accepts of them, and patient when 
she perhaps peevishly rejects them. I know this is hard, but I 
think you are equal to it ; not from any servility of temper, but 
from abundant goodness. In the mean time, all your friends, 



440 franklin's select works. 

sensible of your present uncomfortable situation, should endeavor 
to ease your burden, by acting in concert with you, and to givG 
her as many opportunities as possible of enjoying the pleasures 
of society, for your sake. 

Nothing is more apt to sour the temper of aged people than 
the apprehension that they are neglected ; and they are ex- 
tremely apt to entertain such suspicions. It was therefore that 
I proposed asking her to be of our late party ; but, your mother 
disliking it, the motion was dropped, as some others have been, 
by my too great easiness, contrary to my judgment. Not but 
that I was sensible her being with us might ha\e lessened our 
pleasure, but I hoped it might have prevented you some pain. 

In fine, nothing can contribute to true happiness that is incon- 
sistent with duty, nor can a course of action conformable to it 
be finally without an ample reward. For God governs ; and He 
is good. I pray Him to direct you ; and, indeed, you will never 
be without his direction, if you humbly ask it, and show your- 
self always ready to obey it. Farewell, my dear friend, and 
belive me ever sincerely and affectionately yours, 

B. Franklin. 



[to a friend.]* 



77ie Difficulties between England and he?' Colonies — Ends of Provi 

dence. 

London. 28 November, 1768. 

Dear Sir : I received your obliging favor of the 12th instant. 
Your sentiments of the importance of the present dispute be- 
tween Grreat Britain and the colonies appear to me extremely 
just. There is nothing I wish for more than to see it amicably 
and equitably settled. 

But Providence will bring about its own ends by its own 
means ; and, if it intends the downfall of a nation, that nation 
will be so blinded by its pride and other passions as not to see 
its danger, or how its fall may be prevented. 

Being born and bred in one of the countries, and having lived 
long and made many agreeable connections of friendship in the 
other, I wish all prosperity to both ; but I have talked and writ- 
ten so nauch and so long on the subject, that my acquaintance 
are weary of hearing, and the public of reading any more of it, 

* The name of the person to whom this letter was written is not known. 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 441 

which boghis to make me weary of talking and writing ; espe- 
cially as I do not find that I have gained any point, in either 
country, except that of rendering myself suspected by my impar- 
tiality, — in England of being too much an American, and in 
America of being too much an Englishman. Your opinion, 
however, weighs with me, and encourages me to try one effort 
more, in a full though concise statement of facts, accompanied 
with arguments drawn from those facts, to be published about 
the meeting of Parliament, after the holidays. If any good 
may be done, I shall rejoice ; but at present I almost despair. 

Have you ever seen the barometer so low as of late ? The 
22d instant, mine was at 28-41, and yet the weather fine and 
fair. With sincere esteem, I am, dear friend, yours, afiection- 
ately, B. Franklin. 



[to miss JLA.RY STEVENSON.] 

Mother and Daughter — Reason and Enthusiasm. 

Saturday Evening, 2 September, 1769. 

Just come home from a venison feast, where I have drunk 
more than a philosopher ought, I find my dear Polly's cheerful, 
chatty letter, that exhilarates me more than all the wine. 

Your good mother says there is no occasion for any inter- 
cession of mine in your behalf She is sensible that she is more 
in fault than her daughter. She received an affectionate, ten- 
der letter from you, and she has not answered it, though she 
intended to do it ; but her head, not her heart, has been bad, 
and unfitted her for writing. She owns that she is not so good 
a subject as you are, and that she is more unwilling to pay 
tribute to Caesar, and has less objection to smuggling ; but it is 
not, she says, mere selfishness or avarice ; it is rather an honest 
resentment at the waste of those taxes in pensions, salaries, 
perquisites, contracts, and other emoluments for the benefit of 
people she does not love, and who do not deserve such advan- 
tages, because — I suppose — because they are not of her party. 

Present my respects to your good landlord and his family. I 
honor them for their conscientious aversion to illicit trading. 
There are those in the world who would not wrong a neighbor, 
but make no scruple of cheating the king. The reverse, how- 
ever, does not hold ; for, whoever scruples cheating the kirig 
will certainly not wrong his neighbor. 



ii2 franklin's select works. 

You ought not to wish yourself an enthusiast. They have, 
indeed, their imaginary satisfactions and pleasures, but these are 
often balanced by imaginary pains and mortification. You can 
continue to be a good girl, and thereby lay a solid foundation 
for expected future happiness, without the enthusiasm that may 
perhaps be necessary to some others. As those beings who 
have a good sensible instinct have no need of reason, so those 
who have reason to regulate their actions have no occasion for 
enthusiasm. However, there are certain circumstances in life, 
sometimes, where it is perhaps best not to hearken to reason. 
For instance : possibly, if the truth were known, I have reason 
to be jealous of this same insinuating, handsome young physi- 
cian ; but, as it flatters more my vanity, and therefore gives me 
more pleasure, to suppose you were in spirits on account of my 
safe return, I shall turn a deaf ear to reason in this case, as I 
have done, with success, in twenty others. But I am sure you 
will always give me reason enough to continue ever your affec- 
tionate friend, B. Franklin. 

P. S. Our love to Mrs. Tickell. We shall long for your 
return. Your Dolly was well last Tuesday ; the girls were 
there on a visit to her ; I mean at Bromley. Adieu. No time 
now to give you any account of my French journey. 



[to mks. jane mecom.] 

On Resigning his Office — Theories of Preexistence. 

LoNDOK, 30 December, 1770. 
Dear Sister: This ship staying longer than was expected, 
gives me an opportunity of writing to joii, which I thought I 
must have missed, when 1 desired Cousin Williams to excuse me 
to you. I received your kind letter of September 25th by the 
young gentlemen, who, by their discreet behavior, have recom- 
mended themselves very much to me, and many of my acquaint 
ance. Josiah has attained his heart's desire, of being under 
the tuition of Mr. Stanley, who, though he had long left off 
teaching, kindly undertook, at my request, to instruct him, and 
is much pleased with his quickness of apprehension, and the pro- 
gress he makes ; and Jonathan appears a very valuable young 
man, sober, regular, and inclined to industry and frugality, 
which are promising signs of success in business. I am very 
happy in their company. 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 445 

As to the rumor you mention (which was, as Josiah tells me, 
that I had been deprived of my place in the post-office, on 
accoun+ of a letter I wrote to Philadelphia), it might have this 
foundation, — that some of the ministry had been displeased on 
my writing such letters, and there were really some thoughts 
among them of showing that displeasure in that manner. But 
I had some friends, too, who, unrequested by me, advised the 
contrary; and my enemies were forced to content themselves 
with abusing me plentifully in the newspapers, and endeavor- 
ing to provoke me to resign. In this they are not likely to 
succeed, I being deficient in that Christian virtue of resignation. 
If they would have my office, they must take it. 

I have heard of some great man whose rule it was, with 
regard to offices, never to ask for them, and never to refuse them ; 
to which I have always added, in my own practice, never to 
resign them. As I told my friends, I rose to that office through 
a lono; course of service in the inferior degrees of it. Before 
my time, through bad management, it never produced the salary 
annexed to it; and when I received it no salary was to be 
allowed, if the office did not produce it. During the first four 
years, it was so far from defraying itself that it became nine 
hundred and fifty pounds sterling in debt to me and my colleague. 
I had been chiefly instrumental in bringing it to its present 
flourishing state, and therefore thought I had some kind of 
right to it. I had hitherto executed the duties of it faithfully, 
and to the perfect satisfaction of my superiors, which I thought 
was all that should be expected of me on that account. As 
to the letters complained of, it was true I did write them, and 
they were written in compliance with another duty, that to my 
country ; a duty quite distinct from that of postmaster. 

My conduct in this respect was exactly similar to that I held 
on a similar occasion, but a few years ago, when the then minis- 
try were ready to hug me for the assistance I afibrded them in 
repealing a former revenue act. My sentiments were still the 
same, that no such acts should be made here for America ; or, if 
made, should, as soon as possible, be repealed ; and I thought it 
should not be expected of me to change my political opinions 
every time his Majesty thought fit to change his ministers 
This was my language on the occasion ; and I have lately heard, 
that, though I was thought much to blame, it being understood 
that every man who holds an office should act with the ministry, 
whether agreeable or not to his own judgment, yet, in considera- 
tion of the goodness of my private character (as they were 



444 franklin's select works. 

pleased to compliment me), the office was not to be taken 
from me. 

Possibly they may still change their minds, and remove me ; 
but no apprehension of that sort will, I trust, make the least 
alteration in my political conduct. My rule, in which I have 
always found satisfaction, is, never to turn aside in public affairs 
through views of private interest, but to go straight forward in 
doing what appears to me right at the time, leaving the conse- 
quences with Providence. What, in my younger days, enabled 
me more easily to walk upright, was, that I had a trade, and 
that I knew T could live upon little ; and thence (never having 
had views of making a fortune), I was free from avarice, and 
contented with the plentiful supplies my business afforded me. 
And now it is still more easy for me to preserve my freedom 
and integrity, when I consider that I am almost at the end of 
my journey, and therefore need less to complete the expense of 
it ; and that what I now possess, through the blessing of God, 
may, with tolerable economy, be sufficient for me (great misfor- 
tunes excepted), though I should add nothing more to it by any 
office or employment whatsoever, 

I send you, by this opportunity, the two books you wrote for. 
They cost three shillings apiece. When I was first in London, about 
forty-five years since, I knew a person who had an opinion some- 
thing like your author's. Her name was Hive, a printer's widow. 
She died soon after I left England, and by her icill obliged her 
son to deliver publicly, in Salters' Hall, a solemn discourse, the 
purport of which was to prove that this world is the true hell, 
or place of punishment for the spirits who had transgressed in a 
better state, and were sent here to suffer for their sins, in animals 
of all sorts. It is long since I saw the discourse, which 
was printed. I think a good deal of scripture was cited in it, 
and that the supposition was, that, though we now remembered 
nothing of such a preexistent state, yet after death we might 
recollect it, and remember the punishments we had suffered, so 
as to be the better for them ; and others, who had not yet 
offended, might now behold and be warned by our sufferings. 

In fact, we see here that every lower animal has its enemy, 
with proper inclinations, faculties and weapons, to terrify, wound 
and destroy it ; and that men, who are uppermost, are devils to 
one another ; so that, on the established doctrine of the goodness 
and justice of the great Creator, this apparent state of general 
and systematical mischief seemed to demand some such supposi- 
tion as Mrs. Hive's, to account for it consistently with the honor 
of the Deity. But our reasoning powers, when employed about 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 445 

what may have been before our existence here, or shall be after 
it, cannot go far, for want of history and facts. Revelation, 
only, can give us the necessary information; and that, in the first 
of these points especially, has been very sparingly afforded us. 

I hope you continue to correspond with your friends at Phil- 
adelphia. My love to your children ; and believe me ever your 
afiectionate brother, B. Franklin. 



[to SAMUEL COOPER.] 

Minutes of a Remarkable Conference ivith Lord Hillsborough. 

London, 5 February, 1771. 

Dear Sir : I have just received your kind favor of January 
1st by Mr. Bowdoin, to whom I should be ghid to render any 
service here. I wrote to you some weeks since, in answer to 
yours of July and November, expressing my sentiments without 
the least reserve on points that require free discussion, as I know 
I can confide in your prudence not to hurt my usefulness here, 
by making me more obnoxious than I must necessarily be from 
that known attachment to the American interest, which my duty, 
as well as inclination, demands of me. 

In the same confidence, I segd you the enclosed extract from 
my journal, containing a late conference between the Secretary ^ 
and your friend, in which you will see a little of his temper. It 
is one of the many instances of his behavior and conduct that 
have given me the very mean opinion I entertain of his 
abilities and fitness for his station. His character is conceit, 
wrongheadedness, obstinacy and passion. Those who would 
speak most favorably of him allow all this ; they only add, that 
he is an honest man, and means well. If that be true, as per- 
haps it may, I wish him a better place, where only honesty and 
well-meaning are required, and where his other qualities can do 
no harm. Had the war taken place, I have reason to believe 
he would have been removed. He had, I think, some apprehen- 
sions of it himself at the time I was with him. I hope, how- 
ever, that our afiiiirs will not much longer be perplexed and 
embarrassed by his perverse and senseless management. I have 
since heard that his lordship took great oiFence at some of my 
last words, which he calls extremely rude and abusive. He 

* Lord Hillsborough. 

38 



446 franklin's select works. 

assured a friend of mine that thej were equivalent to telling 
liim, to his face, that the colonies could expect neither favor nor 
justice during his administration. I find he did not mistake me. 

It is true, as you have heard, that some of my letters to 
America have been echoed back hither ; but that has not been 
the case with any that were written to you. Great umbrage was 
taken, but chiefly by Lord Hillsborough, who was disposed before 
to be angry with me, and therefore the inconvenience was the 
less ; and, whatever the consequences are of his displeasure, 
putting all my oflFences together, I must bear them as well as I 
can. Not but that, if there is to be war between us, I shall do my 
best to defend myself and annoy my adversary, little regarding 
the story of the Earthen Pot and Brazen Pitcher. One encour- 
agement I have, the knowledge that he is not a whit better liked 
by his colleagues in the ministry than he is by me ; that he can- 
not probably continue where he is much longer ; and that he 
can scarce be succeeded by anybody who will not like me the 
better for his having been at variance with me. 

Pray continue writing to me, as you find opportunity. Your 
candid, clear and well-written letters, be assured, are of great 
use. With the highest esteem, I am, my dear friend, &c., 

B. Franklin. 



Minutes of the Conference mentioned in the preceding Letter. 

"Wednesday, 16 January, 1771. 

I went this morning to wait on Lord Hillsborough. The por- 
ter at first denied his lordship, on which I left my name, and 
drove ofi". But, before the coach got out of the square, the 
coachman heard a call, turned and went back to the door, when 
the porter came and said, " His lordship will see you, sir." 
I was shown into the levee-room, where I found Grovernor Ber- 
nard, who, I understand, attends there constantly. Several 
other gentlemen were there attending, with whom I sat down a 
few minutes, when Secretary Pownall ^ came out to us, and said 
his lordship desired I would come in. 

I was pleased with this ready admission and preference, hav- 
ing sometimes waited three or four hours for my turn ; and, 
being pleased, I could more easily put on the open, cheerful 
countenance that my friends advised me to wear. His lordship 
came towards me and said : "I was dressino;, in order to go to 
court ; but, hearing that you were at the door, who are a man ot 

* John Pownall, Secretary to the Board of Trade, and brother to Governor 
Pownall. 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 447 

business, I determined to see you immediately." I thanked his 
lordship, and said that my business at present was not much ; it 
was only to pay my respects to his lordship, and to acquaint 
him with my appoiutment by the House of Representatives of 
Massachusetts Bay to be their agent here, in which station, if I 
could be of au^ service — (I was going on to say, " to the public, 
I should be very happy;" but his lordship, whose countenance 
changed at my naming that province, cut me short by sayintr, 
with something between a smile and a sneer,) 

L. H. I must set you right there, Mr. Franklin ; you are not 
agent. 

B. F. Why, my lord ? 

L. H. You are not appointed. 

B. F. I do not understand your lordship ; I have the appoint- 
ment in my pocket. 

L. H. You are mistaken ; I have later and better advices. 
I have a letter from Governor Hutchinson ; he would not give 
his assent to the bill. 

B. F. There was no bill, my lord ; it was a vote of the 
House. 

L. H. There was a bill presented to the governor, for the 
purpose of appointing you and another, — one Dr. Lee, I think 
he is called, — to which the governor refused his assent. 

B. F. I cannot understand this, my lord ; I think there must 
be some mistake in it. Is your lordship quite sure that you 
have such a letter ? 

L. H. I will convince you of it directly. {Rings the bell.) 
Mr. Pownall will come in and satisfy you. 

B. F. It is not necessary that I should now detain your lord- 
ship from dressing. You are going to court. I will wait on 
your lordship another time. 

L. H. No, stay: he will come immediately. {To the servant.) 
Tell Mr. Pownall I want him. 

{Mr. Pownall comes in.) 

L. H. Have not you at hand Governor Hutchinson's letter, 
mentioning his refusing his assent to the bill for appointing Dr. 
Franklin agent ? 

Sec. P. My lord ? 

L. H. Is there not such a letter ? 

Sec. P., No, my lord ; there is a letter relating to some bill 
for the payment of a salary to Mr. De Berdt, and I think to 
some other agent, to which the governor had refused his assent. 

L. H. And is there nothing in the letter to the purpose I 
mention ? 



448 franklin's select works. 

Sec. P. No, my lord. 

B. F. I thought it could not well be, my lord, as my lettero 
are by the last ships, and they mention no such thing. Here is 
the authentic copy of the vote of the House appointing me, in 
which there is no mention of any act intended. Will your lord- 
ship please to look at it ? ( With seeming uifuoillingness he 
takes it, but does not look into it.) 

L. H. An information of this kind is not properly brought 
to me as Secretary of State. The Board of Trade is the proper 
place. 

B. F. I will leave the paper, then, with Mr. Pownall, to be — 

L. H. (Hastily.) To what end would you leave it with him ? 

B. F. To be entered on the minutes of that Board, as usual. 

L. H. (Angrily.) It shall not be entered there ! No such 
paper shall be entered there, while I have anything to do with 
the business of that Board ! The House of Bepresentatives has 
no right to appoint an agent. We shall take no notice of any 
agents but such as are appointed by acts of Assembly, to which 
the governor gives his assent. We have had confusion enough 
already. Here is one agent appointed by the Council, another 
by the House of Bepresentatives. Which of these is agent for 
the province ? Who are we to hear in provincial affairs? An 
agent appointed by act of Assembly we can understand. No 
other will be attended to for the future, I can assure you ! 

B. F. I cannot conceive, my lord, why the consent of the 
governor should be thought necessary to the appointment of an 
agent for the people. It seems to me that 

L. H. (With a mixed look of anger and contempt.) I shall 
not enter into a dispute with you, sir, upon this subject. 

B. F. I beg your lordship's pardon ; I do not presume to dis- 
pute with your lordship ; I would only say that it seems to me 
that every body of men, who cannot appear in person where 
business relating to them may be transacted, should have a right 
to appear by an agent. The concurrence of the governor does 
not seem to me necessary. It is the business of the people thai 
is to be done ; he is not one of them ; he is himself an agent. 

L. H. (Hastily.) Whose agent is he? 

B. F. The king 's, my lord. 

L. H. No such matter. He is one of the corporation by the 
province charter. No agent can be appointed but by an act, 
nor any act pass without his assent. Besides, this proceeding is 
directly contrary to express instructions. 

B. F. I did not know there had been such instructions. I 
am not concerned in any offence against them, and 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 449 

L. H. Yes, your offering such a paper to be entered is an 
offence against them. {Folding it up again without having read 
a luord of it.) No such appointment shall be entered. When 
I came into the administration of American affairs, I found them 
in great disorder. By my firmn£ss they are now something 
mended ; and, while I have the honor to hold the seals, I bhaff 
continue the same conduct the same firraness. I think my duty 
to the master I serve, and to the government of this nation, 
requires it of me. If that conduct is not approved, they may 
take my ofl&ce from me when they please. I shall make them a 
bow and thank them. I shall resign with pleasure. That gen- 
tleman knows it {pointing to Mr. Pownall) ; but while I con- 
tinue in it I shall resolutely persevere in the same firmness. 
{Spoke?i with great warmth, and turning pale in his discourse, 
as if he ivas angry at soviething or somebody besides the agent, 
and of more consequence to himself) 

B. F. {Reaching out his hand for the paper, ivhich his lord- 
ship returned to him.) I beg your lordship's pardon for taking 
up so much of your time. It is, I believe, of no great import- 
ance whether the appointment is acknowledged or not ; for I have 
not the least conception that an agent can at present be of any 
use to any of the colonies. I shall therefore give youi' lordship 
no further trouble. {Withdrew.) 



[to JOSHUA BABCOCK.] 

Agriculture the most Honorable Employment — Condition of the Poo^ 
in Ireland — Savage Lfe and Civilization. 

LoNDOX, 13 January, 1772. 

Dear Sir : It was with great pleasure I learnt, by Mr. 
Marchant, that you and Mrs. Babcock and all your good family 
continue well and happy. I hope I shall find you all in the 
same state when I next come your way, and take shelter, as 
often heretofore, under your hospitable roof. The colonel, I 
am told, continues an active and able farmer ; the most honor- 
able of all employments, in my opinion, as being the most useful 
in itself, and rendering the man most independent. My name- 
sake, his son, will soon, I hope, be able to drive the plough for 
him. 

I have lately made a tour through Ireland and Scotland. In 
those countries a small part of the society are landlords, great 
38^' 



450 franklin's select works. 

noblemen, and gentlemen, extremely opulent, living in the 
highest affluence and magnificence. The bulk of the people are 
tenants, extremely poor, living in the most sordid wretchedness, 
in dirty hovels of mud and straw, and clothed only in rags. 

I thought often of the happiness of New England, where 
every man is a freeholder, has a vote in public affairs, lives in 
a tidy, warm house, has plenty of g^od food and fuel, with 
whole clothes from head to foot, the manufacture, perhaps, of 
his own family. Long may they continue in this situation ! 
But, if they should ever envy the trade of these countries, I 
can put them in a way to obtain a share of it. Let them, with 
three-fourths of the people of Ireland, live the year round on 
potatoes and buttermilk, without shirts ; then may their mer- 
chants export beef, butter, and linen. Let them, with the 
generality of the common people of Scotland, go barefoot ; then 
may they make large exports in shoes and stockings, and, if 
they will be content to wear rags, like the spinners and weavers 
of England, they may make cloths and stuffs for all parts of 
the world. 

Further, if my countrymen should ever wish for the honor of 
having among them a gentry enormously wealthy, let them sell 
their farms and pay racked rents ; the scale of the landlords 
will rise, as that of the tenants is depressed, who will soon 
become poor, tattered, dirty, and abject in spirit. Had I never 
been in the American colonies, but were to form my judgment 
of civil society by what I have lately seen, I should never 
advise a nation of savages to admit of civilization ; for I assure 
you that, in the possession and enjoyment of the various com- 
forts of life, compared to these people every Indian is a gen- 
tleman, and the effect of this kind of civil society seems to be 
the depressing multitudes below the savage state, that a few 
may be raised above it. My best wishes attend you and yours, 
being ever, with great esteem, &c., B. Franklin. 



[to SAMUEL FRANKLIN.] 

How to choose a Wife. 

LoNDOX, 13 January, 1772. 

Dear Cousin : I received your kind letter of November 8th, 
and rejoice to hear of the continued welfare of you and your 
good wife and four daughters. I hope they will all get good 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 451 

husbands. I dare say they will be educated so as to deserve 
thera. 

1 kn^w a wise old man who used to advise his younrr friends 
to choose wives out of a bunch ; for where there were many 
daughters, he said, they improved each other, and from emula- 
tion acquired more accomplishments, knew more, could do 
more, and were not spoiled by parental fondness, as single chil- 
dren often are. Yours have my best wishes and blessing, if 
that can be of any value. 

I received a very polite letter from your friend, Mr. Bowen, 
relating to the print. Please to present him my respectful 
compliments. I am just returned from a long journey. Your 
affectionate cousin, B? Franklin. 



[to WILLIAM FRANKLIN.] 

Modes of Exercise — Importance to Health. 

London, 19 August, 1772 

Dear Son : In yours of May 14th you acquaint me with 
your indisposition, which gave me great concern. The resolu- 
tion you have taken to use more exercise is extremely proper ; 
and I hope you will steadily perform it. It is of the greatest 
importance to prevent diseases, since the cure of them by physic 
is so very precarious. 

In considerincr the different kinds of exercise, I have thousxht 
that the quantum of each is to be judged of, not by time or by 
distance, but by the degree of warmth it produces in the body. 
Thus, when I observe, if I am cold when I get into a carriage 
in a morning, I may ride all day without being warmed by it ; 
that, if on horseback my feet are cold, I may ride some hours 
before they become warm ; but, if I am ever so cold on foot, 
I cannot walk an hour briskly without glowing from head to 
foot by the quickened circulation ; I have been ready to say 
(using round numbers, without regard to exactness, but merely 
to make a great difference), that there is more exercise in ojie 
mile's riding on horseback than five in a coach, and more in 
9)16 mile's walking on foot than m five on horseback; to which 
I may add, that there is more in walking one mile up and down 
stairs than mfive on a level floor. 

The two latter exercises may be had within doors, when the 
leather discourages going abroad; and the last may be had 



152 franklin's select works. 

when one is pinclied for time, as containing a great quantity of 
exercise in a handful of minutes. The dumb bell is another 
exercise of the latter compendious kind. By the use of it I 
have in forty swings quickened my pulse from sixty to one hun- 
dred beats in a minute, counted by a second watch ; and I sup- 
pose the warmth generally increases with quickness of pulse. 

B. Franklin. 



[to JOSEPH PRIESTLEY.] 

Moral Algebra, for arriving at Decisions in Doubtful Cases. 

London, 19 September, 1T72. 

Dear Sir : In the affair of so much importance to you, 
wherein you ask my advice, I cannot, for want of sufficient 
premises, counsel you ivhat to determine ; but, if you please, I 
will tell you how. When those difficult cases occur, they are 
difficult chiefly because, while we have them under considera- 
tion, all the reasons pro and co7i are not present to the mind at 
the same time ; but sometimes one set present themselves, and 
at other times another, the first being out of sight. Hence the 
various purposes or inclinations that alternately prevail, and the 
uncertainty that perplexes us. 

To get over this, my way is, to divide half a sheet of paper 
by a line into two columns, writing over the one pro, and over 
the other con; then, during three or four days' consideration, 
I put down under the different heads short hints of the dif- 
ferent motives that at different times occur to me, for or 
against the measure. When I have thus got them all to- 
gether in one view, I endeavor to estimate their respective 
weights ; and, where I find two (one on each side) that seem 
equal, I strike them both out. If I find a reason pro equal to 
some two reasons co7i, I strike out the three. If I judge some 
two reasons co7i equal to some three reasons pro, I strike out the 
Jive; and, thus proceeding, I find at length where the bala?ice 
lies ; and if, after a day or two of further consideration, nothing 
new that is of importance occurs on either side, I come to a de- 
termination accordingly. And, though the weight of reasons 
cannot be taken with the precision of algebraic quantities, yet, 
when each is thus considered separately and comparatively, and 
the whole lies before me, I think I can judge better, and am 
V ess liable to make a rash step ; and in fact I have found great 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 453 

advantage from this kind of equation, in what may he called 
moral or prudential algebra. 

Wishing sincerely that you may determine for the best, I am 
ever; my dear friend, yours, most afiectionately, 

B. Franklin. 



[to the same.] 
The Philosopher'' s Stone — Wickedness of the American War. 

Paris, 27 January, 1777. 

Dear Sir : I received your very kind letter, of February last, 
Bome time in September. Major Carleton, who was so kind as 
to forward it to me, had not an opportunity of doing it sooner. 
I rejoice to hear of your continual progress in those useful dis- 
coveries ; I find that you have set all the philosophers of Europe 
at work upon Jixed air ; and it is with great pleasure I observe 
how high you stand in their opinion, for I enjoy my friends* 
fame as my own. 

The hint you gave me, jocularly, that you did not quite despair 
of the philosopher's stone, draws from me a request that, when 
you have found it, you will take care to lose it again ; for I 
believe in my conscience that mankind are wicked enough to 
continue slaughtering one another as long as they can find money 
to pay the butchers. Bat, of all the wars in my time, this on 
the part of England appears to me the wickedest ; having no 
cause but malice against liberty, and the jealousy of commerce. 
And I think the crime seems likely to meet with its proper 
punishment, — a total loss of her own liberty, and the destruction 
of her own commerce. 

I suppose you would like to know something of the state of 
affairs in America. In all probability, we shall be much stronger 
the next campaign than we were in the last ; better armed, bet- 
ter disciplined, and with more ammunition. When I was at the 
camp before Boston, the army had not five rounds of powder a 
man. This was kept a secret even from our people. The world 
wondered that we so seldom fired a cannon ; we could not afford 
it ; — but we now make powder in plenty. 

To me it seems, as it has always done, that this war must end 
in our favor, and in the ruin of Britain, if she does not speedily 
put an end to it. An English gentleman here the other day, in 
company with some French, remarked that it was folly in France 



454 franklin's select works. 

not to make war immediately. And in Eyigland, replied one of 
them, not to make peace. 

Do not believe the reports you hear of our internal divisions 
We are, I believe, as much united as any people ever vs^ere, and 
as firmly. B. Fhanklin. 



[to josiah quincy.] 
Providence Rules — National Characteristics — American Superfluities, 

Passy, 22 April, 1779. 

Dear Sir : I received your very kind letter by Mr. Bradford, 
who appears a very sensible and amiable young gentleman, to 
whom I should with pleasure render any services in my power, 
upon your much-respected recommendation j but I understand 
he returns immediately. 

It is with great sincerity I join you in acknowledging and 
admiring the dispensations of Providence in our favor. Amer- 
ica has only to be thankful, and to persevere. God will 
finish his work, and establish their freedom ; and the lovers of 
liberty will flock from all parts of Europe, with their fortunes, to 
participate with us of that freedom, as soon as peace is restored. 

I am exceedingly pleased with your account of the French 
politeness and civility, as it appeared among the ofiicers and 
people of their fleet. They have certainly advanced in those 
respects many degrees beyond the English. I find them here a 
most amiable nation to live with. The Spaniards are by com- 
mon opinion supposed to be cruel, the English proud, the Scotch 
insolent, the Dutch avaricious, &c. ; but I think the French have 
no national vice ascribed to them. They have some frivolities, 
but they are harmless. To dress their heads so that a hat can- 
not be put on them, and then wear their hats under their arms, 
and to fill their noses with tobacco, may be called follies, per- 
haps, but they are not vices. They are only the eftects of the 
tyranny of custom. In short, there is nothing wanting in the 
character of a Frenchman that belongs to that of an agreeable 
and worthy man. There are only some trifles surplus, or which 
might be spared. 

Will you permit me, while I do them this justice, to hint a 
little censure on our own country people, which I do in good 
will, wishing the cause removed ? You know the necessity we 
are under of supplies from Europe, and the difficulty we have at 
present in making returns. The interest bills would do a good 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 455 

deal towards purchasing arms, ammunition, clothing, sail-cloth, 
and other necessaries for defence. Upon inquiry of those who 
present these bills to me for acceptance, what the money is to 
be laid out in, I find that most of it is for superfluities, and 
more than half of it for tea. How unhappily in this instance 
the folly of our people and the avidity of our merchants con- 
cur to weaken and impoverish our country ! I formerly com- 
puted that we consumed before the war, in that single article, 
the value of five hundred thousand pounds sterling annually. 
Much of this was saved by stopping the use of it. I honored 
the virtuous resolution of our women in foresroina; that little 
gratification, and I lament that such virtue should be of so short 
duration. Five hundred thousand pounds sterling, annually 
laid out in defending ourselves, or annoying our enemies, would 
have great eflect. With what face can we ask aids and sub- 
sidies from our friends, while we are wasting our own wealth in 
such prodigality ? With great and sincere esteem, 1 have the 
honor to be, dear sir, &c., B. Franklin, 



[to JOSEPH PRIESTLEY.] 

Progress of Science — All Situations have their Inconveniences — Illus- 
trative Anecdote. 

Passy, 8 February, 1780. 
Dear Sir : Your kind letter of September 27th came to 
hand but very lately, the bearer having stayed long in Holland. 
I always rejoice to hear of your being still employed in experi- 
mental researches into nature, and of the success you meet 
with. The rapid progress true science now makes occasions 
my regretting sometimes that I was born so soon. It is impos- 
sible to imagine the height to which may be carried in a thou- 
sand years the power of man over matter. We may, perhaps, 
learn" to deprive large masses of their gravity, and give them 
absolute levity, for the sake of easy transport. Agriculture 
may diminish its labor and double its produce ; all diseases may 
by sure means be prevented or cured, not excepting even that 
of old age, and our lives lengthened at pleasure even beyond 
the antediluvian standard. that moral science were in as 
fair a way of improvement ! that men would cease to be wolves 
to one another, and that human beings would at length learn 
what they now improperly call humanity ! 



456 franklin's select works. 

I am glad my little paper on the Aurora Borealis pleased. 
If it should occasion further inquiry, and so produce a better 
hypothesis, it will not be wholly useless. I am ever, with the 
greatest and most sincere esteem, dear sir, &c., 

B. Franklin. 



Enclosed in the foregoing Letter ; being an Ansicer to a separate 
Paper received from Dr. Priestley. 

I have considered the situation of that person very atten- 
tively. I think that, with a little help from the Moral Algebra,^ 
he might form a better judgment than any other person caii 
form for him. But, since my opinion seems to be desired, I 
give it for continuing to the end of the term, under all the present 
disagreeable circumstances. The connection will then die a 
natural death. No reason will be expected to be given for the 
separation, and, of course, no ofi'ence taken at reasons given ; 
the friendship may still subsist, and in some other way be use- 
ful. The time diminishes daily, and is usefully employed. All 
human situations have their inconveniences ; we feel those that 
we find in the present, and we neither feel nor see those that 
exist in another. Hence we make frequent and troublesome 
changes without amendment, and often for the worse. 

In my youth, I was passenger in a little sloop, descending 
the river Delaware. There being no wind, we were obliged, 
when the ebb was spent, to cast anchor, and wait for the next. 
The heat of the sun on the vessel was excessive, the company 
strangers to me, and not very agreeable. Near the river-side I 
saw what I took to be a pleasant green meadow, in the middle 
of which was a large shady tree, where, it struck my fancy, I 
could sit and read (having a book in my pocket), and pass the 
time agreeably till the tide turned. I therefore prevailed with 
the captain to put me ashore. Being landed, I found the 
greatest part of my meadow was really a marsh, in crossing 
which, to come at my tree, I was up to my knees in mire ; and 
I had not placed myself under its shade five minutes, before the 
mosquitoes in swarms found me out, attacked my legs, hands 
and face, and made my reading and my rest impossible ; so that 
I returned to the beach, and called for the boat to come and 
take me on board again, where I was obliged to bear the heat I 
had strove to quit, and also the laugh of the company. Simi- 

» See letter to Dr. Priestley, dated September 19th, 1772, p. 462. 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 457 

lar cases in the affairs of life have since frequently fallen under 
my observation. 

I have had thoughts of a college for him in America.* I 
know no one who might be more useful to the public in the in- 
struction of youth. But there are possible unpleasantnesses in 
that situation ; it cannot be obtained but by a too hazardous 
voyage at this time for a family ; and the time for experiments 
would be all otherwise engaged.^ 



[to miss aSORGIANA SHIPLEY.] 

Passy, 8 October, 1780. 

It is long, very long, my dear friend, since I had the great 
pleasure of hearing from you, and receiving any of your very 
pleasing letters. But it is my fault. I have long omitted my 
part of the correspondence. Those who love to receive letters 
should write letters. I wish I could safely promise an amend- 
ment of that fault. But, besides the indolence attending age, 
and growing upon us with it, my time is engrossed by too much 
business, and I have too many inducements to postpone doing 
what I feel I ought to do for my own sake, and what I can 
never resolve to omit entirely. 

Your translations from Horace, as far as I can judge of 
poetry and translations, are very good. That of the Quo, quo 
scelesti ruitis ? is so suitable to the times, that the conclusion 
(in your version) seems to threaten like a prophecy ; and, me- 
thinks, there is at least some appearance of danger that it may 
be fulfilled. I am unhappily an enemy, yet I think there has 
been enough of blood spilt, and I wish what is left in the veins 
of that once-loved people may be spared by a peace solid and 
everlasting. 

It is a great while since I have heard anything of the good 
bishop. Strange that so simple a character should sufiiciently 
distinguish one of that sacred body ! Donnez-moi de ses nou- 
velles. I have been some time flattered with the expectation of 
seeino; the countenance of that most honored and ever beloved 

* The advice contained in this paper related to Dr. Priestley himself, who 
had engaged to live with Lord Shelburne, as his librarian, at a salary of 
about three hundred pounds per annum, for a certain number of years ; 
but, before the term had expired, he became dissatisfied with his situation, 
and requested counsel from Dr. Franklin on th« subject 

§9 



458 franklin's select works. 

friend, delineated by your pencil. The portrait is said to have 
been long on the way, but is not yet arrived ; nor can I hear 
■where it is. 

Indolent as I have confessed myself to be, I could not, you 
see, miss this good and safe opportunity of sending you a few 
lines, with my best wishes for your happiness, and that of the 
whole dear and amiable family in whose sweet society I have 
spent so many happy hours. Mr. Jones ^ tells me he shall 
have a pleasure in being the bearer of my letter, of which I 
make no doubt. I learn from him that to your drawing, and 
music, and painting, and poetry, and Latin, you have added a 
proficiency in chess ; so that you are, as the French say, rem- 
plie de talens. May they and you fall to the lot of one that 
shall duly value them, and love you as much as I do ! Adieu. 

B. Franklin. 



[to fraxcis hopkinson.] 
On Planting Trees — Neivspaper Abuse. 

Passy, 24 December, 1782. 

Dear Sir : I thank you for 3^our ingenious paper in favor of 
the trees. I own I now wish we had two rows of them in every 
one of our streets. The comfortable shelter they would afford 
us when walking, from our burning summer suns, and the greater 
coolness of our walls and pavements, would, I conceive, in the 
improved health of the inhabitants, amply compensate the loss 
of a house now and then by fire, if such should be the conse- 
quence. But a tree is soon felled ; and, as axes are at hand in 
every neighborhood, may be down before the engines arrive. 

You do well to avoid being concerned in the pieces of per- 
sonal abuse, so scandalously common in our newspapers, that I 
am afraid to lend any of them here, until I have examined and 
laid aside such as would disgrace us, and subject us among stran- 
gers to a reflection like that used by a gentleman in a coffee- 
house to two quarrellers, who, after a mutually free use of the 
words rogue, villain, rascal, scaundrel, &c., seemed as if they 
would refer their dispute to him : "I know nothing of you, or 
your affairs, " said he ; "I only perceive that you know one 
another." 

* Afterwards the celebrated Sir William Jones 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 459 

The conductor of a newspaper should, methinks, consider him- 
Belf as in some degree the guardian of his country's reputation, 
and refuse to insert such writings as may hurt it. If people 
will print their abuses of one another, let them do it in little 
pamphlets, and distribute them where they think proper. It is 
absurd t trouble all the world with them, and unjust to sub- 
scribers in distant places to stuff their papers with matters so 
unprofitable and so disagreeable. With sincere esteem and 
affection, I am, &c., B. Franklin. 



[to MRS. MAKY KEWSON.] 

On the Death of Friends — FoUtj of War — Protracted Friendship. 

Passy, 27 January, 1783. 

— The departure of my dearest friend,^ which I learn from 
your last letter, greatly affects me. To meet with her once more 
in this life was one of the principal motives of my proposing to 
visit England again, before my return to America. The last year 
carried off my friends Dr. Pringle, Dr. Fothergill, Lord Karnes, 
and Lord le Despencer. This has begun to take away the rest, 
and strikes the hardest. Thus the ties I had to that country, and 
indeed to the world in general, are loosened one by one, and I 
shall soon have no attachment left to make me unwillins; to fol- 
low. 

I intended writing when I sent the eleven books, but I lost the 

..." T • . 

time in looking for the twelfth. I wrote with that ; and hope it 
came to hand. I therein asked your counsel about my coming 
to England. On reflection, I think I can, from my knowledge of 
your prudence, foresee what it will be, namely, not to come too soon, 
lost it should seem braving and insulting some who ought to be 
respected. I shall, therefore, omit the journey till I am near 
going to America, and then just step over to take leave of my 
friends, and spend a few days with you. I purpose bringing Ben 
with me, and perhaps may leave him under your care. 

At length we are in peace, God be praised, and long, very long, 
may it continue ! All wars are follies, — very expensive and very 
mischievous ones. When will mankind be convinced of this, and 
agree to settle their differences by arbitration ? Were they to 
do it, even by the cast of a die, it would be better than by fight- 
ing and destroying each other. 

♦ Mrs. Stevenson, the mother of Mrs. Hewson. 



460 franklin's select works. 

Spring is coming on, when travelling will be deligbtftil. Can 
you not, when you see your children all at school, make a little 
party and take a trip hither ? I have now a large house, delight- 
fully situated, in which I could accommodate you and two or three 
friends ; and I am but half an hour's drive from Paris. 

In looking forward twenty-five years seem a long period, but 
in looking back how short ! Could you imagine that it is 
now full a quarter of a century since we were first acquainted ? 
It was in 1757. During the greatest part of the time, I lived in 
the same house with my dear deceased friend, your mother ; of 
course, you and I conversed with each other much and often. It 
is to all our honors that in all that time we never had among us 
the smallest misunderstanding. Our friendship has been all 
clear sunshine, without the least cloud in its hemisphere. Let 
me conclude by saying to you, what I have had too frequent oc- 
casions to say to my other remaining old friends, " The fewer we 
become, the more let us love one another." Adieu, and believe 
me ever yours, most affectionately, B. Franklin. 



[to JOHN SARGENT.] 

Gratitude to Providence — Matrimony^ dfc. 

Passy, 27 January, 1783. 

My dear Friend : I received and read the letter you was 
so kind as to write to me the third instant, with a great deal of 
pleasure, as it informed me of the welfare of a family whom I 
have so long esteemed and loved, and to whom I am under so 
many obligations, which I shall ever remember. Our corre- 
spondence has been interrupted by that abominable war. I nei- 
ther expected letters from you, nor would I hazard putting you 
in danger by writing any to you. We can now communicate 
freely ; and, next to the happiness of seeing and embracing you 
all again at Halstead, will be that of hearing frequently of your 
health and prosperity. 

Mrs. Sargent and the good lady, her mother, are very kind in 
wishing me more happy years. I ought to be satisfied with those 
Providence has already been pleased to afford me, being now in 
my seventy-eighth ; a long life to pass without any uncommon 
misfortune, the greater part of it in health and vigor of mind 
and body, near fifty years of it in continued possession of the con- 
£denGe of my country, in public employments, and enjoying the 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 46l 

esteem and affectionate friendly regard of many wise and good 
men and women, in every country where I have resided. For 
these mercies and blessings I desire to be thankful to God, whose 
protection I have hitherto had ; and I hope for its continuance to 
the end, which now cannot be far distant. 

The account you give me of your family is pleasing, except 
that your eldest son continues so long unmarried. I hope he 
does not intend to live and die in celibacy. The wheel of life, 
that has rolled down to him from x\dam without interruption, 
should not stop with him. I would not have one dead, unbearing 
branch in the genealogical tree of the Sargents. The married 
state is, after all our jokes the happiest, being conformable to 
our natures. Man and woman have each of them qualities and 
tempers in which the other is deficient, and which in union con- 
tribute to the common felicity. Single and separate, they are 
not the complete human being ; they are like the odd halves of 
scissors ; they cannot answer the end of their formation. 

I am concerned at the losses you have suffered by the war. 
You are still young and active enough to retrieve them ; and 
peace, I hope, will afford the opportunity. 

You mention nothing of my good friend Mrs. Deane, or her 
amiable sisters, whom I saw with you, nor of Mr. Chambers. I 
hope they are all well and happy. Present my respects to Mrs. 
Sargent, whom I love very much, and believe me ever, my dear 
friend, yours, most affectionately, B. Franklin. 



[to sir JOSEPH BANKS.] 

Against War. 

Passy, 27 July, 1783. 
Dear Sir : I received your very kind letter by Dr. Blagden, 
and esteem myself much honored by your friendly remembrance. 
I have been too much arid too closely engaged in public affairs, 
since his being here, to enjoy all the benefit of his conversation 
you were so good as to intend me. I hope soon to have more 
leisure, and to spend a part of it in those studies that are much 
more agreeable to me than political operations. 

I join with you most cordially in rejoicing at the return of 

peace. I hope it will be lasting, and that mankind will at 

length, as they call themselves reasonable creatures, have reason 

and sense enough to settle their differences without cutting 

39^ 



462 franklin's select works. 

tbroats; for, in my opinion, there never was a good war ^ or a haa 
peace. What vast additions to the conveniences and comforts of 
living might mankind have acquired, if the money spent in wars 
had been employed in works of public utility ! What an exten 
sion of agriculture, even to the tops of our mountains ; what 
rivers rendered navigable, or joined by canals ; what bridges, 
aqueducts, new roads, and other public works, edifices and im- 
provements, rendering England a complete paradise, might have 
been obtained by spending those millions in doing good, which 
in the last war have been spent in doing mischief, — in bringing 
misery into thousands of families, and destroying the lives of so 
many thousands of working people, who might have performed 
the useful labor ! 

I am pleased with the late astronomical discoveries made by 
our Society ."^ Furnished as all Europe now is with academies 
of science, with nice instruments and the spirit of experiment, the 
progress of human knowledge will be rapid, and discoveries 
made of which we have at present no conception. I begin to 
be almost sorry I was born so soon, since I cannot have the 
happiness of knowing what will be known one hundred years 
hence. 

I wish continued success to the labors of the Royal Society, 
and that you may long adorn their chair ; being, with the highest 
esteem, dear sir, &c., B. Franklin. 

P. S. Dr. Blagden will acquaint you with the experiment of 
a vast globe sent up into the air, much talked of here, and 
which, if prosecuted, may furnish means of new knowledge 



[to JONATHAN SHIPLEY.] 

On the Establishment of Peace. 

Passy, 17 March, 1783. 
I RECEIVED with great pleasure my dear and respected friend's 
letter of the 5th instant, as it informed me of the welfare of a 
family I so much esteem and love. 

The clamor against the peace in your Parliament would alarm 
me for its duration, if I were not of opinion, with you, that the 
attack is rather against the minister. I am confident none of 
the opposition would have made a better peace for England, if 

* The Royal Society of London. 



niS CORPtESPONDENCE. 463 

they had been in his place ; at least, I am sure that Lord Stor- 
mont, who seems loudest in railing at it, is not the man thai 
could have mended it. My reasons I will give you when I 
have, what I hope to have, the great happiness of seeing you 
once more, and conversing with you. 

They talk much of there being no recipi-ocity in our treaty. 
They think nothing, then, of our passing over in silence the 
atrocities committed by their troops, and demanding no satisfac- 
tion for their wanton burninc^s and devastations of our fair towns 
and countries. They have heretofore confessed the war to be 
unjust, and nothing is plainer in reasoning than that the mis- 
chiefs done in an unjust war should be repaired. Can English- 
men be so partial to themselves as to imagine they have a right 
to plunder and destroy as much as they please, and then, without 
satisfying for the injuries they have done, to have peace on 
equal terms ? We were favorable, and did not demand what 
justice entitled us to. We shall probably be blamed for it by 
our constituents ; and I still think it would be the interest of 
England voluntarily to offer reparation of those injuries, and 
effect it as much as may be in her power. But this is an 
interest she will never see. 

Let us now forgive and forget. Let each country seek its 
advancement in its own internal advantages of arts and agricul- 
ture, not in retarding or preventing the prosperity of the other. 
America will, with God's blessing, become a great and happy 
country ; and England, if she has at length gained wisdom, will 
have gained something more valuable, and more essential to her 
prosperity, than all slie has lost, and will still be a great and 
respectable nation. Her great disease at present is the number 
and enormous salaries and emoluments of office. Avarice and 
ambition are strong passions, and, separately, act with great 
force on the human mind ; but, when both are united, and may- 
be gratified in the same object, their violence is almost irresisti- 
ble, and they hurry men headlong into factions and contentions, 
destructive of all good government. As long, therefore, as 
these great emoluments subsist, your Parliament will be a stormy 
sea, and your public councils confounded by private interests. 
But it requires much public spirit and virtue to abolish them 
more, perhaps, than can now be found in a nation so long cop 
rupted. I am, &c., B. Franklin. 



464 franklin's select works. 



[to mks. baciie.] 

The Order of the Cincinnati — Ascending and Descending Honors — 
Absurdity of the System of Hereditary Nobility. 

Passy, January 20, 1784. 

My dear Child : Your care in sending me the newspapers 
is very agreeable to me. I received by Captain Barney those 
relating to the Cincin?iati. My opinion of the institution can- 
not be of much importance. I only wonder that, when the 
united wisdom of our nation had, in the articles of confeder- 
ation, manifested their dislike of establishing ranks of nobility, 
by authority either of the congress or of any particular state, a 
number of private persons should think proper to distinguish 
themselves and their posterity from their fellow-citizens, and 
for an order of hereditary knights^ in direct opposition to the 
solemnly-declared sense of their country. I imagine it must be 
likewise contrary to the good sense of most of those drawn into 
it by the persuasion of its projectors, who have been too much 
struck with the ribands and crosses they have seen hanging to 
the button-holes of foreign officers. And I suppose those who 
disapprove of it have not hitherto given it much opposition, 
from a principle somewhat like that of your good mother, relat- 
ing to punctilious persons, who are always exacting little observ- 
ances of respect, that, " if people can he pleased with small 
matters, it is a pity hut they should have them..'''' 

In this view, perhaps, I should not myself, if my advice had 
been asked, have objected to their wearing their riband and 
badge themselves according to their fancy, though I certainly 
should to the entailing it as an honor on their posterity. For, 
honor worthily obtained (as that, for example, of our officers) is 
in its nature a personal thing, and incomumuicable to any but 
those who had some share in obtaining it. Thus, among the 
Chinese, the most ancient, and, from long experience, the wisest 
of nations, honor does not descend, but ascends. If a man, from 
his learning, his wisdom, or his valor, is promoted by the em- 
peror to the rank of mandarin, his parents are immediately 
entitled to all the same ceremonies of respect from the people 
that are established as due to the mandarin himself; on the 
supposition that it must have been owing to the education, in- 
struction and good example, afforded him by his parents, that he 
was rendered capable of serving the public. 

This ascending honor is therefore useful to the state, as it 
encourages parents to give their children a good and virtuous 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 465 

education. But the descending honor ^ to a posterity who could 
have no share in obtaining it, is not only groundless and absurd, 
but often hurtful to that posterity, since it is apt to make them 
proud, disdaining to be employed in useful arts, and thence 
falling into poverty, and all the meannesses, servility and 
"wretchedness, attending it ; which is the present case with much 
of what is called the 7ioblesse in Europe. Or, if to keep up the 
dignity of the family estates are entailed entire on the eldest 
male heir, another pest to industry and improvement of the 
country is introduced, which will be followed by all the odious 
mixture of pride, and beggary, and idleness, that have half 
depopulated and decultivated Spain, occasioning continual ex- 
tinction of families by the discouragements of marriage, and 
neglect in the improvement of estates. 

I wish, therefore, that the Cincinnati, if they must go on with 
their project, would direct the badges of their order to be worn 
by their fathers and mothers, instead of handing them down to 
their children. It would be a good precedent, and might have 
good effects. It would also be a kind of obedience to the fifth 
commandment, in which God enjoins us to honor our father and 
mother^ but has noW'here directed us to honor our children. And 
certainly no mode of honoring those immediate authors of our 
being can be more effectual than that of doing praiseworthy 
actions, which reflect honor on those who gave us our education; 
or more becoming than that of manifesting, by some public ex- 
pression or token, that it is to their instruction and example we 
ascribe the merit of those actions. 

But the absurdity of desceriding honors is not a mere matter 
of philosophical opinion ; it is capable of mathematical demon- 
stration. A man's son, for instance, is but half of his family, 
the other half belonging to the family of his wife. His son, too, 
marrying into another family, his share in the grandson is but a 
fourth ; in the great-grandson, by the same process, is but an 
eighth ; in the next generation, a sixteenth ; the next, a thirty- 
second ; the next, a sixty-fourth ; the next, a hundred and 
twenty-eighth ; the next, a two hundred and fifty-sixth ; and the 
next, a ti°ve hundred and twelfth. ' Thus, in nine generations, 
which will not require more than three hundred years (no very 
great antiquity for a family), our present chevalier of the order 
of Cincinnatus's share in the then existing knight will be but a 
five hundred and twelfth part ; which, allowing the present cer- 
tain fidelity of American wives to be insured down through all 
those nine generations, is so small a consideration, that mcthinka 
no reasonable man would hazard, for the sake of it, the disa^ 



466 franklin's select works. 

greeable consequences of the jealousy, envy and ill-will, of his 
countrymen. 

Let us go back with our calculation from this young noble, 
the five hundreth and twelfth part of the present knight, through 
his nine generations, till we return to the year of the institution. 
He must have had a father and mother, — they are two; each of 
them had a fiither and mother, - — they are four. Those of the 
next preceding generation will be eight, the next sixteen, the 
next thirty-two, the next sixty-four, the next one hundred and 
twenty-eight, the next two hundred and fifty-six, and the ninth 
in this retrocession five hundred and twelve, who must be now 
existing, and all contribute their proportion of this future Chev- 
alier de CiTicinnatus. These, with the rest, make together as 
follows : 

2 

4 

8 

16 

32 

64 

128 

256 

512 

Total . 1022 

One thousand and twenty -two men and women contributors to 
the formation of one knight ! And, if we are to have a thousand 
of these future knights, there must be now and hereafter exist- 
ing one million and twenty-two thousand fathers and mothers, 
who are to contribute to their production ; unless a part of the 
number are employed in making more knights than one. Let 
us strike oif, then, the twenty-two thousand, on the supposition 
of this double employ, and then consider whether, after a rea- 
sonable estimation of the number of rogues, and fools, and 
scoundrels, and prostitutes, that are mixed with and help to 
make up necessarily their million of predecessors, posterity will 
have much reason to boast of the noble blood of the then exist- 
ing set of chevaliers of Cincinnatus. 

The future genealogists, too, of these chevaliers, in proving 
the lineal descent of their honor through so many generations 
(even supposing honor capable in its nature of descending), 
will only prove the small share of this honor which can be 
justly claimed by any one of them, since the above simple pro- 
cess In arithmetic makes it quite plain and clear that, in pro- 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 4G7 

portion as the antiquity of the family shall augment, the right 
to the honor of the ancestor will diminish ; and a few genera- 
tions more would reduce it to something so small as to be very 
near an absolute nullity. I hope, therefore, that the order will 
drop this part of their project, and content themselves, as the 
knights of the Garter, Bath, Thistle, St. Louis, and other orders 
of Europe do, with a life enjoyment of their little badge and 
riband, and let the distinction die with those who have merited 
it. This, I imagine, will give no offence. For my own part, I 
shall think it a convenience, when I go into company where 
there may be faces unknown to me, if I discover by this badge 
the persons who merit some particular expression of my respect ; 
and it will save modest virtue the trouble of callino; for our 
regard, by awkward, roundabout intimations of having been 
heretofore employed as officers in the continental service. 

The gentleman who made the voyage to France, to provide 
the ribands and medals, has executed his commission. To me 
they seem tolerably done; but all such things are criticized. 
Some find fault with the Latin, as wanting classical elegance 
and correctness ; and, since our nine universities were not able 
to furnish better Latin, it was a pity, they say, that the mottoes 
had not been in English. Others object to the title, as not 
properly assumable by any but General Washington, and a few 
others who served without pay. Others object to the bald 
eagle, as looking too much like a dindon or turkey. For my 
own part, I wish the bald eagle had not been chosen as the 
representative of our country ; he is a bird of bad moral char- 
acter : he does not get his living honestly : you may have seen 
him perched on some dead tree, where, too lazy to fish for him- 
self, he watches the labor of the fishing-hawk ; and when that 
diligent bird has at length taken a fish, and is bearing it to his 
nest for the support of his mate and young ones, the bald eagle 
pursues him, and takes it from him. With all this injustice, he 
is never in good case, but, like those among men who live by 
sharping and robbing, he is generally poor, and often very lousy 
Besides, he is a rank coward : the little king-bird, not bigger 
than a sparrow, attacks him boldly, and drives him out of the 
district. He is, therefore, by no means a proper emblem for 
the brave and honest Cincinnati of America, who have driven 
all the king-birds from our country ; though exactly fit for that 
order of knights which the French call Chevaliers d' Industrie. 

I am, on this account, not displeased that the figure is not 
known as a bald eagle, but looks more like a turkey. For, 
in truth, the turkey is in comparison a much more resoectable 



468 franklin's select works. 

bird, and witlial a true original native of America. Eagles 
have been found in all countries, but the turkey was peculiar to 
ours ; the first of the species seen in Europe being brought to 
France by the Jesuits from Canada, and served up at the wed- 
ding-table of Charles IX. He is besides (though a little vain 
and silly, 't is true, but not the worse emblem for that) a bird of 
courage, and would not hesitate to attack a grenadier of the 
British Guards who should presume to invade his farm-yard 
with a red coat on. 

I shall not enter into the criticisms made upon their Latin. 
The gallant officers of America may not have the merit of being 
great scholars, but they undoubtedly merit much as brave sol- 
diers from their country, which should, therefore, not leave them 
merely to fame for their virtutis premium, which is one of their 
Latin mottoes. Their estoperpetua — another — is an excellent 
wish, if they meant it for their country ; bad, if intended for 
their order. The States should not only restore to them the 
omnia of their first motto,"^ which many of them have left and 
lost, but pay them justly, and reward them generously. They 
should not be sufi'ered to remain, with all their new-created 
chivalry, entirely in the situation of the gentleman in the story 
which their omnia reliquit reminds me of. You know every- 
thing makes me recollect some story. He had built a very fine 
house, and thereby much impaired his fortune. He had a pride, 
however, in showing it to his acquaintance. One of them, after 
viewing it all, remarked a motto over the door — oia vanitas. 
" What," says he, " is the meaning of this oia ? 'T is a word I don't 
understand." " I will tell you," said the gentleman : " I had a 
mind to have the motto cut on a piece of smooth marble, but there 
was not room for it, between the ornaments, to be put in charac- 
ters large enough to be read. I therefore made use of a con- 
traction, anciently very common in Latin manuscripts, whereby 
the m's and n's in words are omitted, and the omission noted by 
a little dash above, which you may see there, so that the word is 
omnia — omnia vanitas." " 0," said his friend, " I now compre- 
hend the meaning of your motto, — it relates to your edifice, and 
signifies that if you have abridged your omnia, you have never- 
theless left your vanitas legible at full length." I am, as ever, 
your afi"ectionate father, B. Franklin. 

* Omnia reliquit servare rempublicam. 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 469 

[to DK. MATHER, BOSTON.] 

Cotton Mather — Anecdote — On visiting Boston. 

Passy, May 12, 1784. 
Rev. Sir : I received your kind letter, with your excellent 
advice to the people of the United States, which I read with 
great pleasure, and hope it will be duly regarded. Such 
writings, though they may be lightly passed over by many 
readers, yet, if they make a deep impression on one active mind 
in a hundred, the effects may be considerable. Permit me to 
mention one little instance, which, though it relates to myself, 
will not be quite uninteresting to you. When I was a boy I 
met with a book entitled '■^Essays to do Good,'''' which, I think, 
was written by your father. It had been so little regarded by 
a former possessor that several leaves of it were torn out, but the 
remainder gave me such a turn of thinking as to have an influ- 
ence on my conduct through life; for I have always set a 
greater value on the character of a doer of good than on any 
other kind of reputation ; and if I have been, as you seem to 
think, a useful citizen, the public owes the advantage of it to 
that book. 

You mention your being in your seventy-eighth year : I am in 
my seventy-ninth ; we are grown old together. It is now more 
than sixty years since I left Boston, but I remember well both 
your father and grandfather, having heard them both in the pulpit, 
and seen them in their houses. The last time I saw your father was 
in the beginning of 1724, when I visited him after my first trip 
to Pennsylvania, He received me in his library, and, on my taking 
leave, showed me a shorter way out of the house through a nar- 
row passage, which was crossed by a beam overhead. We were 
still talking as I withdrew, he accompanying me behind, and I 
turning partly towards him, when he said, hastily, " Stoop, 
stoop I " I did not understand him till I felt my head hit against 
the beam. He was a man that never missed any occasion of 
giving instruction, and upon this he said to me, " Yov are 
young, and have the world before you: stoop as you go through 
it, and you may miss many hard thumps J^ This advice, thus 
beat into my head, has frequently been of use to me ; and I 
often think of it, when I see pride mortified, and misfortunes 
brought upon people, by their carrying their heads too high. 

I long much to see again my native place, and to lay my 
bones there. I left it in 1723; I visited it in 1733, 1743, 
1753, and 1763. In 1773 I was in England; in 1775 I had a 
40 



470 franklin''^ select avorks. 

sight of it, but could not enter, it being in possession of the 
enemy. I did hope to have been there in 1783, but could not 
obtain my dismission from this employment here ; and now I 
fear I shall never have that happiness. My best wishes, how- 
ever, attend my dear country. Esto perpetua. It is now blest 
with an excellent constitution ; may it last forever ! 

This powerful monarchy continues its friendship for the United 
States. It is a friendship of the utmost importance to our 
security, and should be carefully cultivated. Britain has not 
yet well digested the loss of its dominion over us, and has still 
at times some flattering hopes of recovering it. Accidents may 
increase those hopes, and encourage dangerous attempts. A 
breach betv>'een us and France would infallibly bring the 
English again upon our backs; and yet we have some wild 
heads among our countrymen, who are endeavoring to weaken 
that connection ! Let us preserve our reputation by performing 
our engagements ; our credit, by fulfilling our contracts ; and 
friends, by gratitude and kindness ; for we know not how soon 
we may again have occasion for all of them. With great and 
sincere esteem, 1 have the honor to be, &c., B. Franklin. 



[to b. vaughan.] 

American Extravagance — Anecdote — Commerce — Forest Lands — 
Elements of Wealth. 

Passy, July 26, 1784. 

# ^ ^ You ask " what remedy I have for the growing 
luxury of my country, which gives so much offence to all English 
travellers^ without exception." I answer that I think it exagger- 
ated, and that travellers are not good judges whether our luxury 
is growing or diminishing. Our people are hospitable, and have 
indeed too much pride in displaying upon their tables before 
strangers the plenty and variety that our country affords. They 
have the vanity too of sometimes borrowing one another's plate to 
entertain more splendidly. Strangers, being invited from house 
to house, meeting every day with a feast, imagine what they see 
is the ordinary way of living of all the families where they dine, 
when perhaps each family lives a week after upon the remains 
s»f the dinner given. 

It is, I own, a folly in our people to give such offence to 
English travellers. The first part of the proverb is thereby veri- 



HIS CORRESPONDEA^CE. 47l 

fied, that fools make feasts. I wish in this case the other were as 
true, — a72d wise men eat them. These travellers might, one 
■would think, find some fault they could more decently reproach us 
■with than that of our excessive civility to them as strano-ers. 

I have not, indeed, yet thought of a remedy for luxury ; I am 
not sure that in a great state it is capable of a remedy, nor that 
the evil is in itself always so great as it is represented. Suppose 
we include in the definition of luxury all unnecessary expense, 
and then let us consider whether laAvs to prevent such expense 
are possible to be executed in a great country, and whether, if 
they could be executed, our people generally would be happier, 
or even richer. Is not the hope of one day being able to pur- 
chase and enjoy luxuries a great spur to labor and industry ? 
May not luxury therefore produce more than it consumes, if with- 
out such a spur people would be, as they are naturally enough 
inclined to be, lazy and indolent ? To this purpose, I remember 
a circumstance. 

The skipper of a shallop, employed between Cape May and 
Philadelphia, had done us some small service, for which he refused 
pay. My wife, understanding that he had a daughter, sent her 
as a present a new-fashioned cap. Three years after, the skip- 
per being at my house, with an old farmer of Cape May, his pas- 
senger, he mentioned the cap, and how much his daughter had 
been pleased with it. " But," said he, " it proved a dear cap to our 
congregation." " How so ? " " When my daughter appeared in it 
at meeting, it was so much admired that all the girls resolved to 
get such caps from Philadelphia ; and my wife and I computed that 
the whole could not cost less than a hundred pounds." " True," 
said the farmer, " but you do not tell all the story. I think the 
cap was nevertheless an advantage to us ; for it was the first 
thing that set our girls upon knitting worsted mittens for sale at 
Philadelphia, that they might have wherewithal to buy caps and 
ribbons there ; and you know that that industry has continued, 
and is likely to continue and increase to a much greater value, and 
answer better purposes." Upon the whole, I was more rec- 
onciled to this little piece of luxury, since not only the girls 
were made happier by having fine caps, but the Philadelphians 
by the supply of warm mittens. 

In our commercial towns upon the sea-coast, fortunes will oc- 
casionally be made. Some of those who grow rich will be pru- 
dent, live within bounds, and preserve what they have gained for 
their posterity. Others, fond of showing their wealth, will be 
extravagant and ruin themselves. Laws cannot prevent this, 
and perhaps it is not always an evil to the public. A shilling 



472 franklin's select works. 

spent idly by a fool may be picked up by a wiser person, •who 
knows better what to do with it: it is therefore not lost. 

A vain, silly fellow builds a fine house, furnishes it richly, lives 
in it expensively, and in a few years ruins himself; but the ma- 
sons, carpenters, smiths, and other honest tradesmen, have been 
by his employ ossisted in maintaining and raising their families; 
the farmer has been paid for his labor and encouraged, and the 
estate is now in better hands. In some cases, indeed, certain 
modes of luxury may be a public evil, in the same manner as it 
is a private one. If there be a nation, for instance, that exports 
its beef and linen to pay for its importations of claret and porter, 
while a great part of its people live upon potatoes and wear no 
shirts, wherein does it difier from the sot who lets his ftimily 
starve, and sells his clothes to buy drink ? Our American com- 
merce is, I confess, a little in this way. We sell our victuals to 
your islands for rum and sugar; the substantial necessaries of 
life for superfluities. But we have plenty and live well, never- 
theless, though by being soberer we might be richer. 

By the by, here is just issued an arret of council, taking off 
all the duties upon the exportation of brandies, which, it is said, 
will render them cheaper in America than your rum ; in which 
case there is no doubt but they will be preferred, and we shall 
be better able to bear your restrictions on our commerce. 
There are views here, by augmenting their settlements, of being 
able to supply the growing people of America with the sugar that 
may be wanted there. On the whole, I believe England will 
get as little by the commercial war she has begun with us as she 
did by the military. But to return to luxury. 

The vast quantity of forest lands we have yei to clear and put 
in order for cultivation will for a long time keep the body of our 
nation laborious and frugal. Forming an opinion of our people 
and their manners by what is seen among the inhabitants of the 
seaports, is judging from an improper sample. The people of 
the trading towns may be rich and luxurious, while the country 
possesses ail the virtues that tend to private happiness and public 
prosperity. Those towns are not much regarded by the country; 
they are hardly considered as an essential part of the States ; 
and the experience of the last war has shown that their being in 
possession of the enemy did not necessarily draw on the subjec- 
tion of the country, which bravely continued to maintain its free- 
dom and independence, notwithstanding. 

It has been computed, by some political arithmetician, that if 
every man and woman would work four hours each day in some- 
thing useful, that labor would produce sufficient to procure all 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 472 

the necessaries and comforts of life; want and misery would ht 
banished out of the world, and the rest of the twenty -four hours 
might be leisure and pleasure. 

What, then, occasions so much want and misery ? It is the 
employment of men and women in works that produce neither 
the necessaries nor conveniences of life ; who, with those who do 
nothing, consume the necessaries raised by the laborious. To 
explain this. 

The first elements of wealth are obtained by labor from the 
earth and waters. I have land, and raise corn : with this I feed a 
fomily that does nothing, — my corn will be consumed, and at the 
end of the year I shall be no richer than I was at the beginning. 
But if, while I feed them, I employ them, some in spinning, 
others in hewins; timber and sawino; boards, others in makinf; 
bricks, &c., for building, the value of my corn will be arrested, 
and remain with me, and at the end of the year we may all be 
better clothed and better lodged. And if, instead of employing a 
man I feed in making bricks, I employ him in fiddling for me, 
the corn he eats is gone, and no part of his manufacture remains 
to augment the wealth and the conveniences of the family ; I 
shall therefore be the poorer for this fiddling-man, unless the rest 
of my family work more, or eat less, to make up the deficiency he 
occasions. 

Look round the world, and see the millions employed in doing 
nothing, or in something that amounts to nothing, when the 
necessaries and conveniences of life are in question. What is 
the bulk of commerce, for which we fight and destroy each other, 
but the toil of millions for superfluities, to the great hazard and 
loss of many lives by the constant dangers of the sea ? How 
much labor spent in building and fitting great ships to go to Chi 
na and Arabia for tea and for cofl'ee, to the West Indies for 
sugar, to America for tobacco ! These things cannot be called 
the necessaries of life, for our ancestors lived very comfortably 
without tliem. 

A question may be asked, Could all these people now employed 
in raising, making or carrying superfluities, be subsisted by rais- 
ing necessaries ? I think they might. The world is large, and 
a great part of it still uncultivated. Many hundred millions of 
acres in Asia, Africa and America, are still forest, and a great 
deal even in Europe. On one hundred acres of this forest a 
man might become a substantial farmer, and one hundred thou- 
sand men employed in clearing each his hundred acres (instead 
of being, as they are, French hair-dressers) would hardly bright- 
en a spot big enough to be visible from the moon (unless 

40=^ 



474 fkanklin's select works. 

with Hersclieirs telescope), so vast are the regions still. in the 
world unimproved. 

'T is, however, some comfort to reflect that, upon the whole, the 
quantity of industry and prudence among mankind exceeds the 
quantitj^ of idleness and folly. Hence the increase of good build- 
ings, farms cultivated, and populous cities filled with wealth, all 
over Europe, which a few ages since were only to be found on 
the coasts of the Mediterranean, And this, notwithstanding the 
mad wars continually raging, by which are often destroyed in one 
year the works of many years' peace ; so that we may hope that 
the luxury of a few merchants on the sea-coast will not be the 
ruin of America. 

One reflection more, and I will end this long, rambling letter. 
Almost all the parts of our bodies require some expense. The 
feet demand shoes, the legs stockings, the rest of the body cloth- 
ing, and the belly a good deal of victuals. Our eyes, though ex- 
ceedingly useful, ask, when reasonable, only the cheap assistance 
of spectacles, which could not much impair our finances. But 
THE EYES OF OTHER PEOPLE are the cycs that ruin us. If all but 
mj^'self were blind, I should want neither fine clothes, fine houses, 
nor fine furniture. B. Franklin. 

P. S. This will be delivered to you by my grandson. I am 
persuaded you will afford him your civilities and counsels. 
Please to accept a little present of books I send by him, curioua 
for the beauty of the impression. 



[to WILLIAM STRAHAN, M.P.] 

On visiting England — Public Salaries — Vagrancy of Congress — 
The War — British Disdain for Yankees — Consequences — Evi- 
dences of Providence — Comparison of Fortunes — English Copy- 
rights in America — Emigration. 

Passt, August 19, 1784. 
Dear Friend : I received your kind letter of April 17. You 
will have the goodness to place my delay in answering to the ac- 
count of indisposition and business, and excuse it. I have now 
that letter before me ; and my grandson, whom you may formerly 
remember a little scholar at Mr. Elphinston's, purposing to set 
out in a day or two on a visit to his father in London, I sit 
down to scribble a little to you, first recommending him as a 
worthy young man to your civilities and counsels. 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 475 

You press me mucli to come to England. I am not without 
strong inducements to do so ; the fund of knowledge you promise 
to communicate to me is, in addition to them, no small one. At 
present it is impracticable. But, when my grandson returns, 
come with him. AYe will talk the matter over, and perhaps you 
may take me back with you. I have a bed at your service, 
ind will try to make your residence, while you can stay with 
as, as agreeable to you, if possible, as I am sure it will be to me. 

You do not " approve the annihilation of profitable places ; for 
you do not see why a statesman who does his business well should 
not be paid for his labor as well as any other workman." Agreed. 
But why more than any other workman ? The less the salary, the 
greater the honor. In so great a nation there are many rich 
enough to aiford giving their time to the public ; and there are, I 
make no doubt, many wise and able men who would take as much 
pleasure in governing for nothing as they do in playing of chess 
for nothing. It would be one of the noblest amusements. 

That this opinion is not chimerical the country I now live in 
affords a proof; its whole civil and criramal law administration be- 
ins done for nothing, or in some sense for less than nothing]', since 
the members of its judiciary parliaments buy their places, and 
do not make more than three per cent, for their money by their 
fees and emoluments, while the legal interest is five ; so that, in 
fact, they give two per cent, to be allowed to govern, and all their 
time and trouble into the bargain. Thus prq^t, one motive for 
desiring place, being abolished, there remains only ambition; 
and that being in some degree balanced by loss, you may easily 
conceive that there will not be very violent factions and conten- 
tions for such places, nor much of the mischief to the country 
that attends your factions, which have often occasioned wars, and 
overloaded you with debts impayable. 

I allow you all the force of your joke upon the vagrancy of 
our Congress. They have a right to sit ichere they please, of 
which perhaps they have made too much use by shifting too often. 
But they have two other rights, — those of sitting when they 
please, and as long as they please, in which methinks they have 
the advantage of your Parliament ; for they cannot be dissolved 
by the breath of a minister, or sent packing as you were the 
other day, when it was your earnest desire to have remained 
longer together. 

You " fairly acknowledge th^t the late war terminated quite 
contrary to your expectation." Y^our expectation was ill-found- 
ed ; for you would not believe your old friend, who told you re- 
peatedly that by those measures England would lose hei colo- 



47G franklin's select works. 

nies, as Epictetus warned in vain his master that he would broa^ 
his leg. You believed rather the tales you heard of our poltroon- 
ery and impotence of body and mind. Do you not remember the 
story you told me of the Scotch sergeant who met with a party 
of forty American soldiers, and, though alone, disarmed them all, 
and brought them in prisoners ? — a story almost as improbable as 
that of an Irishman, who pretended to have alone taken and 
brought in five of the enemy, by surrounding them. And yet, 
my friend, sensible and judicious as you are, but partaking of the 
general infatuation, you seemed to believe it. The word general 
puts me in mind of a general — your Greneral CUirke, who had 
the folly to say in my hearing, at Sir John Pringle's, that with a 
thousand British grenadiers he would undertake to go from one 
end of America to the other, and geld all the males, partly by 
force and partly by a little coaxing. It is plain he took us for a 
species of animals very little superior to brutes. The Parliament 
too believed the stories of another foolish general, — I forget his 
name, — that the Yankees never felt bold. Yankee was under- 
stood to be a sort of Yahoo, and the Parliament did not think the 
petitions of such creatures were fit to be received and read in so 
wise an assembly. 

What was the consequence of this monstrous pride and inso- 
lence ? You first sent small armies to subdue us, believing them 
more than sufficient ; but soon found yourselves obliged to send 
greater. These, whenever they ventured to penetrate our country 
beyond the protection of their ships, were either repulsed and 
obliged to scamper out, or were surrounded, beaten, and taken 
prisoners. An American planter, who had never seen Europe, 
was chosen by us to command our troops, and continued during 
the whole war. This man sent home to you, one after another, 
five of your best generals, baffled, their heads bare of laurels, dis- 
graced even in the opinion of their employers. Your contempt 
of our understandings, in comparison with your own, appeared to 
be not much better founded than that of our courage, if we may 
judge by this circumstance, that in whatever court of Europe a 
Yankee negotiator appeared the wise British minister was rout- 
ed, put in a passion, picked a quarrel with your friends, andAvas 
sent home with a flea in his ear. 

But after all, my dear friend, do not imagine that I am vain 
enough to ascribe our success to any superiority in any of those 
points. I am too well acquainted with all the springs and levers 
of our machine, not to see that our human means were unequal 
to our undertaking, and that, if it had not been for the justice of 
our cause, and the consequent interposition of Providence, in 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 477 

which we had faith, we must have been ruined. If I had ever 
before been an atheist, I should now have been convinced of the 
being and government of a Deit j ! It is he that abases the 
proud and favors the humble. May we never forget his goodness 
to us, and may our future conduct manifest our gratitude ! 

But let us leave these serious reflections, and converse with 
our usual pleasantry. I remember your observing once to me, as 
we sat together in the House of Commons, that no two journey- 
men-printers within your knowledge had met with such success in 
the world as ourselves. You were then at the head of your pro- 
fession, and soon afterwards became a member of Parliament. I 
was an agent for a few provinces, and now act for them all. But 
we have risen by different modes. 

I, as a republican printer, always liked a form well planed 
down ; being averse to those overbearing letters that hold their 
heads so high as to hinder their neighbors from appearing. You, 
as a monarchist, chose to work upon croiun paper, and found it 
profitable ; wbile I worked upon pro patria (often indeed called 
fools-cap) with no less advantage. Both our heaps hold out very 
well, and we seem likely to make a pretty good days work of it. 

With regard to public affairs (to continue in the same style), 
it seems to me that your compositors in your chapel do not cast 
off their copy icelly nor perfectly understand imposing : their 
forms too are continually pestered by the outs and doubles that 
are not easy to be corrected. And I think they were wrong 
in laying aside some /aces, and particularly certain head-pieces, 
that would have been both useful and ornamental. But, courage ! 
The business may still flourish with good management, and tlie 
master become as rich as any of the company. 

By the way, the rapid growth and extension of the English 
language in America must become greally advantageous to the 
booksellers and holders of copyrights in England. A vast audi- 
ence is assembling there for English authors, ancient, present and 
future, our people doubling every twenty years ; and this will 
demand large, and of course profitable impressions of your most 
valuable books. I would therefore, if I possessed such rights, 
entail them, if such a thing be practicable, upon my posterity ; 
for their worth will be continually augmenting. This may look 
a little like advice, and yet I have drank no Madeira these six 
months. The subject, however, leads me to another thought, 
which is, that you do wrong to discourage the emigration of 
Englishmen to America. 

In my piece on population I have proved, I think, that emi- 
gration does not diminish but multiplies a nation. You will not 



478 franklin's select works. 

have the fewer at home for those that go abroad ; and, as every 
man who comes among us and takes up a piece of land becomes 
a citizen, and by our constitution has a voice in elections, and a 
share in the government of the country, why should you be 
against acquiring by this fair means a repossession of it, and leave 
it to be taken by foreigners of all nations and languages, who by 
their numbers may drown and stifle the English, which otherwise 
would probably become, in the course of two centuries, the most 
extensive language in the world, the Spanish only excepted ? It 
is a fact that the Irish emigrants and their children are now in 
possession of the government of Pennsylvania, by their majority 
itt the Assembly, as well as of a great part of the territory ; and 
1 remember well the first ship that brought any of them over. 
I am ever, my dear friend, yours, most afi'ectionately, 

B. Franklin. 



[to GEORGE WHATLET.^ 

Privileges of Old Age — On a Good Epitaph — Reasons for Confidence 

in a Future State — The American Constitution — 

England — Anecdote. 

Passy, May 23, 1785. 

Dear old Friend: I sent' yau a few lines the other day, 
with the medallion, when I should have written more, but was 
prevented by the coming in of "a lacard, who worried me till 
evening. I bore w^ith him, and now you are to bear with me, 
for I shall probably bavarder in answering your letter. 

I am not acquainted with the saying of Alphonsus, which you 
allude to as" a sanctification of your rigidity in refusing to allow 
me the plea of old age as an excuse for my want of exactness 
in correspondence. What was that saying ? You do not, it 
seems, feel any occasion for such an excuse, though you are, as 
you say, rising seventy-five. But I am rising (perhaps more 
properly tailing) eighty, and I leave the excuse with you till you 
arrive at that age ; perhaps you may then be more sensible of 
its validity, and see fit to use it for yourself. 

I must agree with you, that the gout is bad, and that the stone 
is worse. I am happy in not having them both together, and I 
join in your prayer that you may live till you die without 
either. But I doubt the author of the epitaph you send me was 
a little mistaken, when he, speaking of the world, says that 

♦' he ne'er cared a pin 
What they said or may say of the mortal within." 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 479 

It is so natural to wish to be well spoken of, whether alive or 
dead, that I imagine he could not be quite exempt from that 
desire ; and that at least he wished to be thought a wit, or he 
would not have given himself the trouble of writing so good an 
epitaph to leave behind him. Was it not as worthy of his care 
that the world should say he was an honest and a good man ? I 
like better the concluding sentiment in the old song called The 
Old Man's Wish, wherein, after wishing for a warm house in a 
country town, an easy horse, some good authors, ingenious and 
cheerful companions, a pudding on Sandays, with stout ale, and 
a bottle of Burgundy, &c. &c., in separate stanzas, each ending 
with this burden. 



he adds, 



*' May I govern my passions with absolute sway, 
Grow wiser and better as my strength wears away. 
Without gout or stone, by a gentle decay, — " 

" With a courage undaunted may I face my last day ; 

And when I am gone may the better sort say, 
' In the morning when sober, in the evening when mellow, 
He 's gone, and has not left behind him his fellow. 

Por he governed his passions,' &c." 

But what signifies our wishing ? Things happen, after all, as 
they will happen, I have sung that wishing song a thousand 
times when I was young, and now find at four-score that the 
three contraries have beiullen me, being subject to the gout, and 
the stone, and not being yet master of all my passions. Like 
the proud girl in my country, who wished and resolved not to 
marry a parson, nor a Presbyterian, nor an Irishman, and at 
length found herself married to an Irish Presbyterian parson. 
You see I have some reason to wish that in a future state I 
may not only be as well as I was, but a little better. And I 
hope it : for I too, with your poet, tricst in God. And when I 
observe that there is great frugality as well as wisdom in His 
works, since he has been evidentl}'^ sparing both of labor and 
materials ; for by the various wonderful inventions of propaga- 
tion he has provided for the continual peopling his world with 
plants and animals, without being at the trouble of repeated 
new creations ; and by the natural reduction of compound sub- 
stances to their original elements, capable of being employed in 
new compositions, he has prevented the necessity of creating 
new matter ; so that the earth, water, air, and perhaps fire, 
which, being compounded from wood, do, when the wood is dis- 
solved, return, and again become air, earth, fire and water ; — I 
Bay, that when I see nothing annihilated, and not even a drop of 



480 franklin's select works. 

water wasted, I cannot suspect the annilillaticn of souls, or be- 
lieve that He will suffer the daily waste of millions of minds 
ready made, that now exist, and put himself to the continual 
trouble of making new ones. Thus finding myself to exist in 
the world, I believe I shall in some shape or other always exist ; 
and, with all the inconveniences human life is liable to, I shall 
not object to a new edition of mine, — hoping, however, that the 
errata of the last may be corrected. # # =^ =^ # 

The Philadelphia bank goes on, as I hear, very well. What 
you call the Cincinnati institution is no institution of our gov- 
ernment, but a private convention among the officers of our late 
army, and so universally disliked by the people that it is sup- 
posed it will be dropped. It was considered as an attempt to es- 
tablish something like an hereditary rank or nobility. I hold, with 
you, that it was wrong ; may I add, that all descending honors 
are wrong and absurd, — that the honor of virtuous actions ap- 
pertains only to him that performs them, and is in its nature 
incommunicable. If it were communicable by descent, it must 
also be divisible among the descendants ; and, the more ancient 
the family, the less would be found existing in any one branch 
of it, — to say nothing of the greater chance of unlucky inter- 
ruptions. 

Our constitution seems not to be well understood with you. 
If the Congress were a permanent body, there would be more 
reason in being jealous of giving it powers. But its members 
are chosen annually, cannot be chosen more than three years 
successively, nor more than three years in seven ; and any of 
them may be recalled at any time, whenever their constituents 
shall be dissatisfied with their conduct. They are of the people, 
and return again to mix with the people, having no more dura- 
ble preeminence than the difierent grains of sand in an hour- 
glass. Such an assembly cannot easily become dangerous to 
liberty. They are the servants of the people, sent together to 
do the people's business, and promote the public welfare ; their 
powers must be sufficient, or their duties cannot be performed. 
They have no profitable appointments, but a mere payment of 
daily wages, such as are scarcely equivalent to their expenses , 
so that, having no chance for great places and enormous salaries 
or pensions, as in some countries, there is no canvassing or 
bribing for elections. 

I wish Old England were as happy in its government, but I 
do not see it. Your people, however, think their constitution 
the best in the world, and affect to despise ours. It is comfort- 
able to have a good opinion of one's sel^ and of everything that 



HIS COERESPONDENCE. 431 

belongs to us ; to think one's own religion, king and wife, the 
best of all possible wives, kings, or religions. I reniens bar three 
Greenlanders, who had travelled two years in Europe, under 
the care of some Moravian missionaries, and had visited Ger- 
many, Denmark, Holland, and England ; when I asked them at 
Philadelphia (where they were in their way home) whether, now 
they had seen how much more comniodiously the white people 
lived by the help of- the arts, they would not choose to remain 
among us, their answer was, that they were pleased with having; 
h;.d an opportunity of seeing so many fine things, hut they chose 
to LIVE in tJieir men country. Which countrj^ by the waj^ con- 
sisted of rock only ; for the Moravians vrere obliged to carry 
earth in their ship from New York for the purpose of making a 
cabbage-garden ! # # ^ ^ 

We shall always be ready to take your children, if you send 
them to us. I only wonder that, since London draws to itself 
and consumes such numbers of your country people, the country 
ishould not, to supply their places, want and willingly receive 
the children you have to dispose of. That circumstance, together 
with the multitude who voluntarily part with their freedom as 
men to serve for a time as lackeys, or for life as soldiers, in 
consideration of small wages, seems to me proof that your island 
is over-peopled. And yet it is afraid of emigrations ! 

B. Franklin, 



1 



[to MRS- mart HEWSON, LONDON.] 

Recovery of cm Old Letter. — Life in Philadelphia — Cards — Consola^ 
tionfor Idleness — Public Amusements — Family Matters. 

Philadelphia, May 6, 1786. 

My dear Friend : A long winter has passed, and I have 
not hud the pleasure of a line from you, acquainting me with 
your and your children's welfare, since I left England. I sup- 
pose you have been in Yorkshire, out of the way and knowl- 
edge of opportunities ; for I will not think you have forgotten 
me. 

To make me some amends, I received, a few days past, a 
large packet from Mr. Williams, dated September 177G, near 
ten years since, containing three letters from you, one of Decem- 
ber 12, 1775. This packet had been received by i^Ir. Bachc 
after my departure for France, lay dormant among liis papers 
41 



482 franklin's select works. 

during ail my absence, and has just now broke out upon me liJct 
words that had been, as somebody says, congealed in northern 
air. Therein 'I find all the pleasing little family history of 
your children. How William had begun to spell, orercoming by 
strength of memory all the difficulty occasioned by the conunon 
wretched alphabet, while you were convinced of the utility of 
our new one ; how Tom, genius-like, struck out new paths, and, 
relinquishing the old names of the letters, called U bell and P 
bottle ; how Eliza began to grow jolly, — that is, fat and hand- 
some, resembling Aunt Rooke, whom I usetl to call my ^^vely ; 
together with all the then news of Lady Blunt's having produced 
at length a boy; of Dolly's being well, and of poor good Cath- 
erine's decease; of your aiiairs with Muir and Atkinson, and 
of their contract for feeding the fish in the channel ; of the 
Vinys, and their jaunt to Cambridge in the long carriages ; of 
Dolly's journey to Wales with Mr. Scot ; of the Wilkes's, the 
Pearces, Elphinston, &c. &c. ; concluding with a kind of promise 
that as soon as the Ministry and Congi*ess agreed to make peace 
I should have you with me in America. That peace has been 
some time made, but, alas ! the promise is not yet fulfilled. 
And why is it not fulfilled ? ^ 

I have found my family here in health, good circumstances, 
and well respected by their fellow-citizens. The companions of 
my youth are, indeed, almost all departed, but I find an agreeable 
society among their children and grandchildren. I have public 
business enough to preserve me from ennui, and private anmse- 
ment besides, in conversation, books, my garden, mid crihbage. 
Considering our well-furnished, plentiful market as the best of 
gardens, I am turning mine, in the midst of which my house 
stands, into grass-plats, and gravel-walks, with trees and flower- 
ing shrubs. Cards we sometimes play here in long winter even- 
ings, but it is as they play at chess, — not for money, but for honor, 
or the pleasure of beating one another. This will not be quite 
a novelty to you, as you may remember we played together in 
that manner during the winter you helped me to pass so agreea- 
bly at Passy. I have, indeed, now and then a little compunction 
in reflecting that I spend time so idly ; but another reflection 
comes to relieve me [whispering], " You know the soul is im- 
mortal; why, then, should you be such a niggard of a little time, 
when you have a whole eternity before you ? " So, being easily 
convinced, and, like other reasonable creatures, satisfied with a 

* Mrs. Hewson (once Miss Mary Stevenson, and daughter of Franklin's 
London landlady) removed, in 1786, with her family, to Philadelphia 
where ©n« of her sons became a suceessful physician. 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 485 

Bmall reason when it is in favor of doing what I have a mind 
to do, I shuffle the cards again, and begin another game. 

As to public amusements, we have neither plays nor operas, 
but we had j^esterdaj a kind of oratorio, as you will see by the 
enclosed paper; and we have assemblies, balls and concerts, 
besides little parties at one another's houses, in which there is 
sometimes dancing, and frequently good music ; so that we jog 
on in life as pleasantly as you do in England, anywhere but in 
London ; for there you have plays performed by good actors. 
That, however, is, I think, the only advantage London has over 
Philadelphia. 

Temple has turned his thoughts to agriculture, which he pur- 
sues ardently, being in possession of a fine farm that his father 
lately conveyed to him. Ben is finishing his studies at college, 
and continues to behave as well as when you knew him, so that 
I still think he will make you a good son. His younger 
brothers and sisters are also all promising, appearing to have 
good tempers and dispositions, as well as good constitutions. As 
to myself, I think my general health and spirits rather better 
than when you saw me, and the particular malady I then com- 
plained of continues tolerable. With sincere and very great 
esteem, I am ever, my dear friend, yours, most aflfectionately, 

B. Franklin. 

P. S. My children and grandchildren join with me in 
best wishes for you and yours. My love to my godson, to 
Eliza, and to honest Tom. They will all find agreeable com- 
panions here. Love to Dolly, and tell her she will do weP to 
come with you. 



[to mks. jane mecom.] 
Phonography Anticipated. 

Philadelphia, 4 July, 178G. 

You need not be concerned, in writing to me, about 

your bad spelling; for, in my opinion, as our alphabet now 
stands, the bad spelling, or what is called so, is generally the 
best, as conforming to the sound of the letters and of the words. 
To give you an instance. A gentleman received a letter, in 
which were these words: '' Not fuuiing Brown at horn, I deliv- 
ered your meseg to his yf^ The gentleman, finding it bad spell- 
ing, and therefore not very intelligible, called his lady to help 



484 franklin's select works. 

liim read it. Between them tliey picked out the meaning of all 
but the yfy which they could not understand. The lady pro* 
posed calling her chambermaid, "Because Betty," says she, 
" has the best knack at reading bad spelling of any one 1 
know." Betty came, and was surprised that neither Sir nor 
Madam could tell what yf was. "Why," says she, "?// spells 
wife ; what else can it spell ? " And, indeed, it is a much bet- 
ter as well as shorter method of spelling wife than douhleyou^ 
2, ef e, which in reality spell douhleyifey. 

There is much rejoicing in town to-day, it being, the anniver- 
sary of the Declaration of Independence, which we signed this 
day ten years, and thereby hazarded lives and fortunes. God 
was pleased to put a favorable end to the contest much sooner 
than we had reason to expect. His name be praised. Adieu. 

B. Franklin. 



[to Bnss ***.] 
The Art of procvring Pleasant Dreams. 

As a great part of our life is spent in sleep, during which we 
have sometimes pleasant and sometimes painful dreams, it be- 
comes of some consequence to obtain the one kind and avoid the 
other ; for, whether real or imaginary, pain is pain, and pleasure 
is pleasure. If we can sleep without dreaming, it is well that 
painful dreams are avoided. If, while we sleep, we can have 
any pleasing dream, it is, as the French say. aidant de gagne, 
80 much added to the pleasure of life. 

To this end, it is, in the first place, necessary to be careful in 
preserving health, by due exercise and great temperance ; for, in 
sickness, the imagination is disturbed, and disagreeable, some- 
times terrible ideas are apt to present themselves. Exercise 
should precede meals, not immediately follow them; the first 
promotes, the latter, unless moderate, obstructs digestion. If, 
after exercise, we feed sparingly, the digestion will be easy and 
good, the body lightsome, the temper cheerful, and all the animal 
functions performed agreeably. Sleep, when it follows, will be 
natural and undisturbed ; v/hile indolence, with full feeding, 
occasions nightmares and horrors inexpressible ; we fall from 
precipices, are assaulted by wild beasts, murderers and demons, 
and experience every variety of distress. Observe, however, 
that the quantities of food and exercise are relative things ; 
thoBe who move much may, and indeed ought to eat more ; those 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 485 

who use little exercise should eat little. In general, mankind, 
since the improvement of cookery, eat about twice as much as 
nature requires. Sappers are not bad, if we have not dined ; 
but restless nights naturally follow hearty suppers, after full din- 
ners. Indeed, as there is a difference in constitutions, some rest 
well after these meals ; it costs them only a frightful dream and 
an apoplexy, after which they sleep till doomsday. Nothing is 
more common in the newspapers than instances of people who, 
after eating a hearty supper, are found dead abed in the morn- 
ins;. 

Another means of preserving health, to be attended to, is the 
having a constant supply of fresh air in your bed-chamber. It 
has been a great mistake, the sleeping in rooms exactly closed, 
and in beds surrounded by curtains. No outward air that may 
come in to you is so unwholesome as the unchanged air, often 
breathed, of a close chamber. As boiling water does not grow 
hotter by longer boiling, if the particles that receive gi-eater heat 
can escape, so living bodies do not putrefy, if the particles, so 
fast as they become putrid, can be thrown oiF. Nature expels 
them by the pores of the skin and the lungs, and in a free, open 
air they are carried oiF; but in a close room we receive them 
again and again, though they become more and more corrupt. 
A number of persons crowded into a small room thus spoil the 
air in a few minutes, and even render it mortal, as in the Black 
Hole at Calcutta. A single person is said to spoil only a gallon 
of air per minute, and therefore requires a longer time to spoil 
a chamber-full ; but it is done, however, in proportion, and many 
putrid disorders hence have their origin. It is recorded of Me- 
thusalem, who, being the longest liver, may be supposed to have 
best preserved his health, that he slept always in the open air ; 
for, when he had lived five hundred years, an angel said to him, 
" Arise, Methusalem, and build thee an house, for thou shalt live 
yet five hundred years longer." But Methusalem answered, 
and said, " If I am to live but five hundred years longer, it is 
not worth while to build me an house ; I will sleep in the air, 
as I have been used to do." Physicians, after having for ages 
contended that the sick should not be indulged with fresh air, 
have at length discovered that it may do them good. It is 
therefore to be hoped, that they may in time discover, likewise, 
that it is not hurtful to those who are in health, and that we 
may be then cured of the aerophobia, that at present distresses 
weak minds, and makes them choose to be stifled and poisoned, 
rather than^ leave open the window of a bed-chamber, or put 
down the glass of a coach. 
41# 



486 franklin's select works. 

Confined air, when saturated with perspirable matter, will not 
receive more ; and that matter must remain in our bodies, and 
occasion diseases ; but it gives some previous notice of its being 
about to be hurtful, bj producing certain uneasinesses, sligM 
indeed at first, such as wiih regard to the lungs is a trifling sen- 
sation, and to the pores of the skin a kind of restlessness, which 
is dijB&cult to describe, and few that feel it know the cause of it. 
But we may recollect that, sometimes, on waking in the night, 
we have, if warmly covered, found it difficult to get asleep again. 
AVe turn often, without finding repose in any position. This 
fidgetiness (to use a vulgar expression, for want of a better) is 
occasioned wholly by an uneasiness in the skin, owing to the re- 
tention of the perspirable matter, the bed-clothes having received 
their quantity, and, being saturated, refusing to take any more. 
To become sensible of this by an experiment, let a person keep 
his position in the bed, but throw ofl' the bed-clothes, and sufier 
fresh air to approach the part uncovered of his body ; he will 
then feel that part suddenly refreshed ; for the air will imme- 
diately relieve the skin, by receiving, licking up, and carrj'ing 
oil, the load of perspirable matter that incommoded it. For 
every portion of cool air that approaches the warm skin, in re- 
ceiving its part of that vapor, receives therewith a degree of 
heat that rarefies and renders it lighter, when it will be pushed 
away with its burthen, by cooler and therefore heavier fresh air, 
which for a moment supplies its place, and then, being likewise 
changed and warmed, gives way to a succeeding quantity. This 
is the order of nature, to prevent animals being infected by their 
own perspiration. He will now be sensible of the difi'erence 
between the part exposed to the air, and that which, remaining 
sunk in the bed, denies the air access ; for this part now mani- 
fests its uneasiness more distinctly by the comparison, and the 
seat of the uneasiness is more plainly perceived than when the 
whole surface of the body was affected by it. 

Here, then, is one great and general cause of unpleasing 
dreams. For, when the body is uneasy, the mind will be dis- 
turbed by it, and disagreeable ideas of various kinds will in 
sleep be the natural consequences. The remedies, preventive 
and curative, follow. 

1. By eating moderately (as befo'.e advised, for health's sake), 
less perspirable matter is producea in a given time ; hence the 
bed-clothes receive it longer befcre they are saturated, and we 
may therefore sleep longer before we are made uneasy by their 
refusing to receive any more. 

2. By using thinner and more porous bed-clothes, which 'will 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 487 

suffer the perspirable matter more easily to pass throuf^h them, 
we are less incommoded, such beimr longer tolerable. 

3. When you are awakened by this uneasiness, and find you 
cannot easily sleep again, get out of bed, beat up and turn your 
pillow, shake the bed-clothes well, with at least twenty shakes, 
then throw the bed open and leave it to cool ; in the mean while, 
continuing undressed, walk about your chamber till your skia 
has had time to discharge its load, which it will do sooner as the 
air may be drier and colder. When you begin to feel the cold air 
unpleasant, then return to your bed, and you will soon fall asleep, 
and your sleep will be sweet and pleasant. All the scenes pre- 
sented to your fancy will be too of the pleasing kind. I am 
often as agreeably entertained with them as by the scenery of 
an opera. If you happen to be too indolent to get out of bed, 
you may, instead of it, lift up your bed-clothes with one arm 
and leg, so as to draw in a good deal of fresh air, and by letting 
them tall force it out ^gain. This, repeated twenty times, will 
so clear them of the perspirable matter they have imbibed as to 
permit your sleeping well for some time afterwards. But this 
latter method is not equal to the former. 

Those who do not love trouble, and can afford to have two 
beds, will find great luxury in rising, Avhen they wake in a hot 
bed, and going into the cool one. Such shifting of beds would 
also be of great service to persons ill of a fever, as it refreshes 
and frequently procures sleep. A very large bed, that will 
admit a removal so distant from the first situation as to be cool 
and sweet, may in a degree answer the same end. 

One or two observations more will conclude this little piece. 
Care must be taken, when you lie down, to dispose your pillow 
so as to suit your manner of placing your head, and to be per- 
fectly eas}^ ; then place your limbs so as not to bear inconve- 
niently hard upon one another, as, for instance, the joints of 
your ankles ; for, though a bad position may at first give but 
little pain and be hardly noticed, yet a continuance will render 
it less tolerable, and the uneasiness may come on while you are 
asleep, and disturb your imagination. These are the rules of 
the art. But, though they will generally prove effectual in pro- 
ducing the end intended, there is a case in which the most 
punctual observance of them will be totally fruitless. I need 
not mention the case to you, my dear friend, but my account of 
the art would be imperfect without it. The case is, when the 
person who desires to have pleasant dreams has not taken cars 
to preserve, what is necessary above all things, 

A Good Ca^.T3CiF^^0E. 



488 TKAIJfKLIN'S SELECT WORKS. 



[to THOMAS PAIXE.]* 

On his Arguments against a Particular Providence, <^'C. 

. [Without date.} 

Dear Sir : I liaye read your manuscript with some atten- 
tion. By the argument it contains against a particular Provi- 
dence, though you allow a general Providence, you strike at the 
foundations of all religion. For, without the belief of a Provi- 
dence, that takes cognizance of, guards and guides, and may 
favor particular persons, there is no motive to worship a Deity, 
to fear his displeasure, or to pray for his protection. 

I will not enter into any discussion of your principles, though 
you seem to desire it. At present I shall only give you my 
opinion, that, though your reasonings are subtle, and may pre- 
vail with some readers, you will not succeed so as to change the 
general sentiments of mankind on that subject, and the conse- 
quence of printing this piece will be, a great deal of odium 
drawn upon yourself, mischief to you, and no benefit to others. 
He that spits against the wind spits in his own face. 

But, were you to succeed, do you imagine any good would be 
done by it ? You yourself may find it easy to live a virtuous 
life without the assistance afforded by religion ; you having a 
clear perception of the advantages of virtue, and the disadvan-; 
tages of vice, and possessing a strength of resolution sufficient 
to enable you to resist common tcDiptations. But, think how 
great a portion of mankind consists of weak and ignorant men. 
and women, and of inexperienced, inconsiderate youth of both 
sexes, who have need of the motives of religion to restrain them 
from vice, to support their virtue, and retain them in the prac- 
tice of it till it becomes habitual, which is the great point for its 
security. Arid, perhaps, you are indebted to her originally — 
that is, to your religious education — for the habits of virtue 
upon which you now justly value yourself. You might easily dis- 
play your excellent talents of reasoning upon a less hazardous 
subject, and thereby obtain a rank with our most distinguished 
authors. For among us it is not necessary, as among the Hot- 
tentots, that a youth, to be raised into the company of men, 
should prove his manhood by beating his mother. 

I would advise you therefore not to attempt unchaining the 
tiger, but to burn this piece before it is seen by any other per- 
son, whereby you will save yourself a great deal of mortiliea- 

* There is little doubt that this letter was addressed to Paine, although 
it was originally published without the name of the person to whom it waa 
directed. 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 489 

tion from the enemies it may raise against you, and perhaps a 
good deal of regret and repentance. If men are so wicked with 
religion, what would they be if idthout it ? I intend this let- 
ter itself as a proof of my friendship, and therefore add m 
professio?is to it ; but subscribe simply yours, B. Franklin. 



[to the editors of TffE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE.] 

On Party Abuse — Newspaper Sc;-"^Uity. 

Messrs. Hall and Sellers : I lately heara remark that, 
on examination of the Pennsylvania Gazette for hfty years from 
its commencement, it appeared that during that long period 
scarce one libellous piece had ever appeared in it. This gener- 
ally chaste conduct of your paper is much to its reputation ; 
for it has long been the opinion of sober, judicious people, that 
nothing is more likely to endanger the liberty of the press than 
the abuse of that liberty by employing it in personal accusa- 
tion, detraction and calumny. The excesses some of our papers 
have been guilty of in this particular have set this State in a 
bad light abroad, as appears by the following letter, which I 
wish you to publish, not merely to show your own disapproba- 
tion of the practice, but as a caution to others of the profession 
throughout the United States. For I have seen an European 
newspaper, in which the editor, who had been charged with fre- 
quently calumniating the Americans, justifies himself by saying 
*' that he had published nothing disgraceful to us, which he had 
not taken from our own printed papers." I am, &c., A. B. 



"New York, March 30, 1788. 

' Dear Friend : My gout has at length left me, after five 
months' painful confinement. It afforded me, however, the 
leisure to read, or hear read, all the packets of your newspapers 
which you so kindly sent for my amusement. 

" Mrs. W. has partaken of it ; she likes to read the adver- 
tisements ; but she remarks some kind of inzonsintency in the 
announcing so many diversions for almost every evening in the 
week, and such quantities to be sold of expensive superfluities, 
fineries, and luxuries just imported, in a country that at the 
Esame time fills its papers with complaints of hxird times and 
want of money. 

"I tell her that such complaints are common to all times and 



490 franklin's select works. 

all countries, and were made even in Solomon's time, when, as 
we are told, silver was as plenty in Jerusalem as the stones in 
the street, and yet even then there were people that grumbled, 
so as to incur this censure from that knowing prince : Smj not 
thou that the former times were better than these; for thou dost 
not inquire rightly cojicerning that ^natter. 

" But the inconsistence that strikes me the most is that be- 
tween the name of your city, Philadelphia^ brotherly love, and 
the spirit of rancor, malice and hatred, that breathes in its 
newspapers. For I learn from those papers that your state is 
divided into parties : that each ascribes all the public operations 
of the other to vicious motives ; that they do not even suspect 
one another oi the smallest degree of honesty ; that the anti- 
federalists are such merely from the fear of losing power, 
places or emoluments, which they have in possession or in 
expectation ; that the federalists are a set of conspirators, who 
aim at establishing a tyranny over the persons and property of 
their countrymen, and to live in splendor on the plunder of the 
people. I learn, too, that your justices of the peace, though 
chosen by their neighbors, make a villanous trade of their office, 
and promote discord to augment fees, and fleece their electors ; 
and that this would not be mended by placing the choice in the 
executive council, who, with interested or party views, are con- 
tinually making as improper appointments. Witness a ^ petty 
fiddler, sycophant and scoundrel,'' appointed judge of the Ad- 
miralty; ''an old woman and fomenter of sedition^ to be another 
of the judges, and ' a Jeffries^ chief-justice, &c. &c. ; with ' two 
harpies,^ the comptroller and naval officers, to prey upon the 
merchants and deprive them of their property by force of 
arms, &c. 

"I am informed also, by these papers, that your General As- 
sembly, though the annual choice of the people, shows no regard 
to their rights, but, from sinister views or ignorance, makes laws 
in direct violation of the constitution, to divest the inhabitants 
of their property, and give it to strangers and intruders ; and, 
that the Council, either fearing the resentment of their con- 
stituents, or plotting to enslave them, had projected to disarm 
them, and given orders for that purpose ; and, finally, that your 
president, the unanimous joint choice of the Council and Assem- 
bly, is ' an old rogue,'' who gave his assent to the federal consti- 
tution merely to avoid refunding money he had purloined from 
the United States. 

" There is, indeed, a good deal of manifest inconsistency in all 
this; and yet, a stranger seeing it in your own prints, though ho 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 491 

does not believe it all, may probably believe enough of it to 
conclude that Pennsylvania is peopled by a ^t of the most 
unprincipled, wicked, rascally and quarrelsome scoundrels upon 
the face of the globe. I have sometimes, indeed, suspected that 
these papers are the manufacture of foreign enemies among you, 
who write with a view of disgracing your country, and makino" 
you appear contemptible and detestable all the world over ; but 
then I wonder at the indiscretion of your printers in publishing 
such writings ! There is, however, one of your inconsisteiicies 
that consoles me a little, which is, that, though Iwing you give 
one another the characters of devils, dead you are all angels! 
It is delightful, when any of you die, to read what good "hus- 
bands, good fathers, good friends, good citizens, and good Chris- 
tians you were, concluding with a scrap of poetry that places you, 
with certainty, every one in heaven. So that I think Pennsyl- 
vania a good country to die in, though a very bad one to live iu " 



[to CUAELES TIIOMrSOX.] 

Philadelphia, December 29, 1788. 

Bear old Friend : Enclosed I send a letter to the President 
of Congress for the time being, which, if you find nothing im- 
proper in it, or that in regard to me you could wish changed or 
amended, I would request you to present. I rely nuich on your 
friendly counsel, as you must be better acquainted with persons 
and circumstances than I am ; and I suppose there will be time 
enough before the new Congress is formed to make any altera- 
tions you may advise, though, if presented at all, it should be to 
the old one. 

In the copy of my letter to Mr. Barclay, you may observe, 
that mention is made of some " considerable articles which I 
have not charged in my accounts with Congress, but on which I 
should expect from their equity some consideration." That you 
may have some information what those articles are, I enclose 
also a " Sketch of my Services to the United States, " wherein 
you will find mention of the extra services I performed that do 
not appertain to the office of plenipotentiary, namely, as judge of 
admiralty, as consul before the arrival of 31r. Barclay, as banker 
in examining and accepting the multitude of bills of exchange, 
and as secretary for several years, — none being sent to me, 
though other ministers were allowed such assistance. 



492 franklin's select works. 

I must own I did hope that, as it is customary in Europe to 
make some liberal provision for ministers when they return home 
from foreign service, the Congress would at least have been kind 
enough to have shown their approbation of my conduct by a 
grant of a small tract of land in their western country, which 
might have been of use and some honor to my posterity. And 
I cannot but still think they will do something of the kind for 
me whenever they shall be pleased to take my services into con- 
sideration, as I see by their minutes that they have allowed Mr. 
Lee handsomely for his services in England, before his appoint- 
ment to France, in which services I and Mr. Bollan cooperated 
with him, but have had no such allowance ; and, since his return, 
he has been very properly rewarded with a good place, as well 
as my friend Mr. Jay: though these are trifling compensations 
in comparison with what was granted by the king to M. Gerard 
on his return from America, — but how different is what has hap- 
pened to me! On my return from England in 1775, the Con- 
gress bestowed on me the office of Postmaster-general, for which 
I was very thankful. It was indeed an office I had some kind of 
right to, as having previously greatly enlarged the revenue of 
the post, by the regulations I had contrived and established, 
while I possessed it under the crown. When I was sent to 
France, I left it in the hands of my son-in-law, who was to 
act as my deputy. But, soon after my departure, it was taken 
from me, and given to Mr. Hazard. When the English ministry 
formerly thought fit to deprive me of the office, they left me, 
however, the privilege of receiving and sending my letters free 
of postage, which is the usage when a postmaster is not dis- 
placed for misconduct in the office ; but in America I have ever 
since had the postage demanded of me, which since my return 
from France has amounted to above fifty pounds, much of it occa- 
sioned by my having acted as minister there. 

When I took my grandson, William Temple Franklin, with 
me to France, I purposed, after giving him the French language, 
to educate him in the study and practice of the law. But, by 
the repeated expectations given me of a secretary, and constant 
disappointments, I was induced, and indeed obliged, to retain 
him with me, to assist in the secretary's office ; which disappoint- 
ments continued till my return, by which time so many years of 
the opportunity of his studying the law were lost, and his habits 
of life became so different, that it appeared no longer advisable ; 
and I then considering him as brought up in the diplomatic line, 
and well qualified by his knowledge in that branch for the em- 
ploy of a secretary at least (in which opinion I was not alone, 



■ I 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 493 

for three of my colleagues, without the smallest solicitation from 
me, chose him secretary of the negotiation for treaties, which 
they had been empowered to do), I took the liberty of recom- 
mending him to the Congress for their protection. This was the 
only favor I ever asked of them ; and the only answer I re- 
ceived was a resolution superseding him, and appointintr Col. 
Humphreys in his place, a gentleman who, though he mighl have 
indeed a good deal of military merit, certainly had none in the 
diplomatic line, and had neither the French language, nor the 
experience, nor the address, proper to qualify him for such an 
employment. 

This is all to yourself only as a private friend ; for I have 
not, nor ever shall, make any public complaint; and, even if I 
could have foreseen such unkind treatment from Congress, their 
refusing me thanks would not in the least have abated my zeal 
for the cause, and ardor in support of it. I know somethino- of 
the nature of such changeable assemblies, and how little success- 
ors know of the services that have been rendered to the corps 
before their admission, or feel themselves obliged by such ser- 
vices ; and what eflfect in obliterating a sense of them, durin'^' 
the absence of the servant in a distant country, the artful and 
reiterated malevolent insinuations of one or two envious and 
malicious persons may have on the minds of members, even of 
the most equitable, candid and honorable dispositions; and, 
therefore, I will pass these reflections into oblivion. 

My good friend, excuse, if you can, the trouble of this letter ; 
and, if the reproach thrown on republics, that t/ipy are ajjt to be 
ungrateful, should ever unfortunately be verified with respect to 
your services, remember that you have a right to unbosom your- 
self in communicating your griefs to your ancient friend, and 
most obedient humble servant, 13. Franklin. 

Charles Thompson, Esq.^ Sec'yto Congress. 



Sketch of the Services of B. Franklin to the United States of America. 

In England he combated the Stamp Act, and his writings in 
the papers against it, with his examination in Parliament, were 
thought to have contributed much to its repeal. 

He opposed the Duty Act, and, though he could not prevent 
its passing, he obtained of Mr. Townshcnd an omission of sev 
eral articles, particularly salt. 
42 



494 franklin's select avorks. 

In the subsequent difference he wrote and published many 
papers refuting the claim of Parliament to tax the colonies. 

He opposed all the oppressive acts. 

He had two secret negotiations with the ministers for their 
repeal, of which he has written a narrative. In this he oflfered 
payment for the destroyed tea, at his own risk, in case they were 
re|)ealed. 

He was joined with Messrs. Bollan and Lee in all the appli- 
cations to government for that purpose. Printed several pam- 
phlets, at his own considerable expense, against the then measures 
of government, whereby he rendered himself obnoxious, was dis- 
graced before the Privy Council, deprived of a place in the post- 
office of three hundred pounds sterling a year, and obliged to 
resign his agencies, namely : 

Of Pennsylvania, 500Z. 

• Of Massachusetts, 400 

Of New Jersey, ..... 100 

Of Georgia, 200 



1200 

In the whole, fifteen hundred pounds sterling per annum. 

Orders were sent to the king 's governors not to sign any war- 
rants on the treasury for the orders of his salaries; and, though 
he was not actually dismissed by the colonies that employed him, 
yet, thinking the known malice of the court against him ren- 
dered him less likely than others to manage their affairs to their 
advantage, he judged it to be his duty to withdraw from their 
service, and leave it open for less exceptionable persons, which 
saved them the necessity of removing him. 

Returning to America, he encouraged the Revolution ; was ap- 
pointed chairman of the committee of safety, where he projected 
the chevaux de frize for securing Philadelphia, then the residence 
of Concrress. 

Was sent by Congress to head-quarters near Boston, with 
Messrs. Harrison and Lynch, in 1775, to settle some affairs with 
the northern governments and General Washington. 

In the spring of 1776, was sent to Canada with Messrs. Chase 
and Carrol, passing the lakes while they were not yet free from 
ice. In Canada was, with his colleagues, instrumental in redress- 
ing sundry grievances, and thereby reconciling the people more 
to our cause. He there advanced to General Arnold and other 
servants of Congress, then in extreme necessity, three hundred 
and fifty-three pounds in gold out of his own pocket, on the 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 495 

credit of Congress, which was a great service at that juncture; 
in procuring provisions for our armj. 

Being, at the time he was ordered on this service, upwards of 
seventy years of age, he suffered in his health by the hardships 
of this journey, lodging in the woods, &c., in so inclement a 
season ; but, being recovered, the Congress in the same year 
ordered him to France. Before his departure, he put all the 
money he could raise — between three an«i four thousand pounds 
— into their hands ; which, demonstrating his confidence, encour- 
aged others to lend their money in support of the cause. 

He made no bargain for appointments, but was promised, by a 
vote, the net salary of five hundred pounds sterling per annum, 
his expenses paid, and to be assisted by a secretary, who was 
to have one thousand pounds per annum, to include all contin- 
gencies. 

When the Pennsylvania Assembly sent him to England, in 1764, 
on the same salary, they allowed him one year 's advance for his 
passage, and in consideration of the prejudice to his private affairs 
that must be occasioned by his sudden departure and absence. 
He has had no such allowance from Congress, was badly accom- 
modated in a miserable vessel, improper for those northern seas 
(and which actually foundered in her return), was badly fed, so 
that on his arrival he had scarce strength to stand. 

His services to the States as commissioner, and afterwards as 
minister plenipotentiary, are known to Congress, as may appear 
in his correspondence. His extra services may not be so well 
known, and therefore may be here mentioned. ■ No secretary 
ever arriving, the business was in part before, and entirely when 
the other commissioners left him, executed by himself, with the 
help of his grandson, who at first was only allowed clothes, board 
and lodging, and afterwards a salary never exceeding three hun- 
dred pounds a year (except while he served as secretary to the 
commissioners for peace), by which difference in salary, continued 
many years, the Congress saved, if they accept it, seve/i hundred, 
pounds sterling a year. 

He served as consul entirely several years, till the arrival of 
Mr. Barclay, and even after, as that gentleman was obliged to 
be much and long absent in Holland, Flanders and England ; 
durinor which absence what business of the kind occurred still 
came to Mr. Franklin. 

He served, though without any special commission for the pur- 
pose, as a judge of admiralty ; for, the Congress having sent 
him a quantity of blank commissions for privateers, he granted 
them to cruisers fitted out in the ports of France, some of thein 



496 franklin's select works. 

manned by old smugglers, who knew every creek on the coa^t of 
Enghind, and, running all round the island, distressed the Brit- 
ish coasting trade exceedingly, and raised their general insur- 
ance. One of those privateers alone, the Black Prince, took in 
the course of a year seventy-five sail ! All the papers taken 
in each prize brought in were in virtue of an order of council 
sent up to Mr. Franklin, who was to examine them, judge of the 
legality of the capture, and write to the admiralty of the port 
that he found the prize good, and that the sale might be permit- 
ted. These papers, which are very voluminous, he has to 
produce. 

He served also as merchant, to make purchases, and direct the 
shipping of stores to a very great value, for which he has charged 
no commission. 

But the part of his service which was the most fatis-uins: 
and confining was that of receiving and accepting, after a due 
and necessary examination, the bills of exchange drawn by Con- 
gress for interest-money, to the amount of two million and a half 
of livres annually I multitudes of the bills very small, each of 
which, the smallest, gave as much trouble in examining, as the 
largest. And this careful examination was found absolutely 
necessary, from the constant frauds attempted by presenting 
seconds and thirds for payment after the firsts had been dis- 
charged. As these bills were arriving more or less by every 
ship and every post, they required constant attendance. Mr. 
Franklin could make no journey for exercise, as had been annu- 
ally his custom, and the confinement brought on a malady that 
is likely to afiiict him while he lives. 

In short, though he has always been an active man, he never 
went through so much business during eight years, in any part 
of his life, as during those of his residence in France ; which, 
however, he did not decline till he saw peace happily made, and 
found himself in the eightieth year of his age ; when, if ever, a 
man has some right to expect repose. 



[to DAVID HARTLEY. 1 

State of his Health — Convulsions in France. 

Philadelphia, Dec. 4. 1789. 
Mr VERY DEAR Frient) : I received your favor of August 
last. Your kind condolences, on the painful state of my health, 



niS CORRESPONDEXCB. 497 

are very obliging. I am thankful to God, however, that, among 
the numerous ills human life is subject to, one only of any im- 
portance is fallen to my lot, and that so late as almost to insure 
that it can be but of short duration. 

The convulsions in France are attended with some disagree- 
able circumstances ; but, if by the struggle she obtains and 
secures for the nation its future liberty, and a good constitution, 
a few years' enjoyment of those blessings will amply repair all 
the damages their acquisition may have occasioned. God grant 
that not only the love of liberty, but a thorough knowledge of 
the rights of man, may pervade all the nations of the earth, so 
that a philosopher may set his foot anywhere on its surface and 
say. This is my country ! 

Your wishes for a cordial and perpetual friendship between 
Britain and her ancient colonies are manifested continually in 
every one of your letters to u5e; something of my disposition on 
the same subject may appear to you in casting your eye over 
the enclosed paper. I do not by this opportunity send yoa a>iy 
of our Gazettes ; because the postage from Liverpool would be 
more than they are worth. I can only add my best wishes of 
every kind of felicity for the three Hartleys, to whom I have 
the honor of being an affectionate friend and most obedient 
humble servant, B. Franklin 



[to WILLIAM FRAXKLIX.] vy 

On Political Differences with his Son. 

Passv, 16 August, ITSi. 
Dear Son : I received your letter of the 22d ultimo, and am 
glad to find that you desire to revive the affectionate intercourse 
that formerly existed between us. It will be very agreeable to me ; 
indeed, nothing has ever hurt me so much, and affected me with 
such keen sensations, as to find myself deserted in my old age 
by ray only son ; and not only deserted, but to find him taking 
up arms against me in a cause wherein my good fame, fortune 
and life, were all at stake. You conceived, you say, that your 
duty to your king and regard for your country required this. I 
ought not to blame you for differing in sentiment with me in 
public affairs. We are men, all subject to errors. Our opin- 
ions are not in our own power ; they are formed and governed 
much by circumstances, that are often as inexplicable as they 
are irresistible. Your situation was such that few would have 
42=* 



498 franklin's select works. 

censured your remaining neuter, though there are natural duties 
which precede political ones, and cannot be extinguished by 
them. 

This is a disagreeable subject. I drop it ; and we will en- 
deavor, as you propose, mutually to forget what has happened 
relating to it, as well as we can. * 



* # 



B. Franklin. 



[to NOAH WEBSTEB.] 

Innovations in the English Language — The Latin and the French — 
Fashions in Printing — Use of Capital Letters, Italics, <5fc. 

Philadelphia, Dec. 26, 1789. 

Dear Sir : I received some time since your ''Dissertations 
on the English Language.'''' The book was not accompanied by 
any letter or me.-sage informing me to whom I am obliged for 
it, but I suppose it is to yourself. It is an excellent work, and 
will be greatly useful in turning the thoughts of our countrymen to 
correct writing. Please to accept my thanks for the great honor 
you have done me in its dedication. I ought to have made this 
acknowledgment sooner, but much indisposition prevented' me. 

I cannot but applaud your zeal for preserving the purity of 
our language, both in its expressions and pronunciation, and in 
correcting the popular errors several of our States are con- 
tinually falling into with respect to both. Give me leave to 
mention some of them, though possibly they may have already 
occurred to you. I wish, however, in some future publication 
of yours, you would set a discountenancing mark upon them. 
The first I remember is the word improved. ^Yhen I left New 
England, in the year 17l23, this word had never been used among 
us, as far as I know, but in the sense of ameliorated, or made 
better, except once in a very old book of Dr. Mather's, entitled 
Remarkable Providences. As that eminent man wrote a very 
obscure hand, I remember that when I read that word in his 
book, used instead of the word iynployed, I conjectured it was 
an error of the printer, who had mistaken a too short I in the 
writing for an r, and a y with too short a tail for ay; whereby 
imployed was converted into improved. 

But when I returned to Boston, in 1733, I found this change 
had obtained favor, and was then become common ; for I met 
with it often in perusing the newspapers, where it frequently 
made an appearance very ridiculous. Such, for instance, as the 



ti 



HIS CORRESPONDENCE. 401) 

advertisement of a country house to be sold, which had been 
many years improved as a tavern ; and, in the character of a 
deceased country gentleman, that he had been for more than 
thirty years improved as a justice of peace. This use of the 
word improved is peculiar to New England, and not to be met 
with among any other speakers of English, either on this or the 
other side of the water. 

During my late absence in France, I find that several other 
new words have been introduced into our parliamentary lan- 
guage ; for example, I find a verb formed from the substantive 
notice : I should not have noticep this, were it not that the gen- 
tleman, &c. Also another verb from the substantive advocate : 
The gentleman who advocates, or has advocated, that motion, 
&c. Another from the substantive progress, the most awkward 
and abominable of the three: The committee having progressed, 
resolved to adjourn. The word opposed, though not a new word, 
I find used in a new manner, as, The gentlemen who are opposed 
to this measure, — to which I have also myself always been 
OPPOSED. If you should happen to be of my opinion with respect 
to these innovations, you will use your authority in reprobating 
them. 

The Latin lans-uaoje. Ions: the vehicle used in distributing 
knowledge among the difterent nations of Europe, is daily 
more and more neglected ; and one of the modern tongues, 
namel}^ the French, seems in point of universality to have sup- 
plied its place. It is spoken in all the courts of Europe ; and 
most of the literati, those even who do not speak it, have 
acquired knowledge enough of it to enable them easily to read 
the books that are written in it. This gives a considerable 

advantao;e to that nation ; it enables its authors to inculcate and 

. 1 . . 

spread throughout other nations such sentiments and opmions 

on important points as are most conducive to its interests, or 
which may contribute to its reputation, by promoting the com- 
mon interests of mankind. It is perhaps owing to its being 
written in French that Voltaire's Treatise on Toleration has had 
so sudden and so great an eifect on the bigotry of Europe as 
almost entirely to disarm it. The general use of the French lan- 
guage has likewise a very advantageous eifect on the profits of the 
bookselling branch of commerce, it being well known that the 
more copies can be sold that are struck off from one composition 
of types, the profits increase in a much greater proportion than 
they do in making a gieat number of pieces in any other kind 
of manufacture. And at present there is no capital town in 



500 franklin's select works. 

Europe without a French bookseller's shop corresponding with 
Paris. 

Our English bids fair to obtain the second place. The great 
body of excellent printed sermons in our language, and the free- 
dom of our writings on political subjects, have induced a nimiber 
of divines of different sects and nations, as well as gentlemen 
concerned in public affairs, to study it; so far, at least, as to read 
it. x\nd,if we were to endeavor the facilitating its progress, the 
study of our tongue might become much more general. Those 
who have employed some parts of their time in learning a new 
language have frequently observed that, while their ac(|uaint- 
ance with it was imperfect, difficulties small in themselves 
operated as great ones in obstructing their progress. A book, 
for example, ill printed, or a pronunciation in speaking not 
well articulated, would render a sentence unintelligible which, 
from a clear print or a distinct speaker, would have been imme- 
diately comprehended. If, therefore, we would have the benefit 
of seeino' our lano-uanre more known amon^i; mankind, we should 
-endeavor to remove all the difficulties, however small, that dis- 
courasre the learnins; it, 

Eut I am sorry to observe that of late years those difficulties, 
instead of beins: diminished, have been ausraented. In examin- 
mg the English books that were printed between the Restoration 
and the accession of George the Second, we may observe that 
all substantives were begun with a capital, in which We imitated 
our mother tongue, the German. This was more particularly 
useful to those who were not well acquainted with the English ; 
there being such a prodigious number of our words that are 
both verbs and substantives^ and spelled in the same manner, 
though often accented differently in the pronunciation. 

This method has, by the fancy of printers, of late years been 
laid aside, from an idea that suppressing the capitals shows the 
character to greater advantage ; those letters prominent above 
the line disturbing its even, regular appearance. The effect of 
this change is so considerable, that a learned man of France, who 
used to read our books, though not perfectly acquainted with 
our language, in conversation with me on the subject of our 
authors, attributed the greater obscurity he found in our modern 
books, compared with those of the period above mentioned, to 
change of style for the worse in our writers; of which mistake 
I convinced him, by marking for him each substantive with a 
capital in a paragraph, which he then easily understood, though 
before he could not comprehend it. This shows the inconvenience 
of that pretended improvement. 



Ills CORRESPONDENCE. 501 

From the same fondness for an even and uniform appearance 
of characters in the line, the printers have of Late banished also 
the Italic types, in which words of importance to be attended to 
in the sense of the sentence, and words on which an emj)hasis 
should be put in reading, used to be printed. And lately 
another fancy has induced some printers to use the short round s 
instead of the long one, which formerly served well to distinguish 
a word readily by its varied appearance. Certainly the omit- 
ting this prominent letter makes the line appear more even, but 
renders it less immediately legible; as the paring all men's 
noses might smooth and level their faces, but would render their 
physiognomies less distinguishable. 

Add to all these improvements bachvards another modern 
fancy, that gray printing is more beautiful than black; hence 
the English new books are printed in so dim a character as to 
be read with difficulty by old eyes, unless in a very strong light 
and with good glasses. Whoever compares a volume of the 
Gentle ??ia7i's Magazine, printed between the years 1731 and 
1740, with one of those printed in the last ten years, will be 
convinced of the much greater degree of perspicuity given by 
black ink than by gray. Lord Chesterfield pleasantly remarked 
this difference to Faulkner, the printer of the Dublin Journal, 
who was vainly making encomiums on his own paper, as 'the 
most complete of any in the world. "But, Mr. Faulkner," said 
my lord, " don't you think it might be still further improved by 
using paper and ink not quite so near of a color ? " For all 
these reasons, I cannot but wish that our American printers 
would, in' their editions, avoid these fancied improvements, and 
thereby render their works more agreeable to foreigners in 
Europe, to the great advantage of our bookselling commerce. 

Further, to be more sensible of the advantage of clear and 
distinct printing, let us consider the assistance it affords in read- 
ing well aloud to an auditory. In so doing, the eye generally 
slides forward three or four words before the voice. If the 
sight clearly distinguishes what the coming words are, it gives 
time to order the modulation of the voice to express them prop- 
erly. But, if they are obscurely printed, or disguised by omit- 
ting the capitals and long s's or otherwise, the reader is apt to 
modulate wrong ; and, finding he has done so, he is obliged to 
go back and begin the sentence again, which lessens the pleasure 
of the hearers. 

This leads me to mention an old error in our mode of print- 
ing. We are sensible that when a question is met with in redo- 
ing there is a proper variation to be used in the management of 



502 franklin's select works. 

the voice. We have therefore a point called an interrogation 
affixed to the question, in order to distinguish it. But this is 
absurdly placed at its end ; so that the reader does not discover 
it till he finds he has wrongly modulated his voice, and is there- 
fore obliged to begin again the sentence. To prevent this, the 
Spanish printers, more sensibly, place an interrogation at the 
beginning as well as at the end of a question. We have another 
error of the same kind in printing plays, where something often 
occurs that is marked as spoken aside. But the word aside is 
placed at the end of the speech, when it ought to precede it, as a 
direction to the reader, that he may govern his voice accordingly. 
The practice of our ladies in meeting five or six together to form 
a little busy party, where each is employed in some useful work 
while one reads to them, is so commendable in itself, that it 
deserves the attention of authors and printers to make it as 
pleasing as possible, both to the reader and hearers. 

After these general observations, permit me to make one, that 
I imagine may regard your interests. It is that your spelling- 
book is miserably printed here, so as in many places to be 
scarcely legible, and on wretched paper. If this is not attended 
to, and the new one lately advertised as coming out should be 
preferable in these respects, it may hurt the future sale of 
yours. 

I congratulate you on your marriage, of which the news- 
papers inform me. My best wishes attend you, being, with 
sincere esteem, sir, your most obedient and most humble servant, 

B. Franklin. 



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